


If I Falter

by Anonymous



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 15:49:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19815475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: You wouldn't think Steve would be the kind of child that men like him would target.From an outside perspective Steve was loved. His parents would know if he had been abused.But it just wasn't true.Steve's nightmare began when he was nine. But it was only the beginning.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Be warned, this is an incredibly dark fic.  
> It's okay if it's not for you.

Steve sat on the stairs of his parents’ home and watched adults laugh and chat over half-empty glasses of wine. 

He wished he could just hide in his room till all the adults went away, but his mom wanted her friends to see him and ogle at 'how much he's grown.'

Steve tugged at the tie around his neck that felt like it was strangling him. he didn't feel like he'd grown an awful lot.

He still couldn't reach half of the bookshelves in the living room, and his parents still hired a nanny to look out for him while they were away.

And there were definitely way taller kids in his class. By the time Summer had finally arrived, there were even still some girls that were taller than Steve.

He'd get there eventually. That's at least what Mr. Clarke said when he noticed Steve staring at the taller kids in class.

Steve just hoped that he wouldn't be the smallest kid when school started up again in a couple weeks. He was going to be ten soon, and somehow that felt like the age when you begin to get tall.

"Hello there." A male figure sat down next to Steve. His legs resting high atop one of the steps and an empty glass in his hand. "You must be John and Irene's kid."

"Steve." He answered, still tugging at his tie.

"Steve! Right! I almost didn't see you hiding over here."

Steve gave up on his tie and began poking his fingers into the carpeted stairs with a shrug. "M'not hiding."

"You're not?" The man leaned back and appraised their position. "You know come to think of it, this is a pretty good place where you won't get tripped over. Gotta think about things like that when you're your size."

"I'm not that small." Steve protested, finally looking up at the man next to him.

He had blonde hair combed into a swooping part that reminded Steve of a wave. 

Pale blue eyes that twinkled with amusement stared him up and down. "No. Now that I look at you, you're practically an adult."

Steve laughed. Grown-ups didn't usually talk to him like this. They rarely talked to him at all.

The man patted Steve's leg. "Well I don't know about you Steve, but I'm thirsty. How about we go to the kitchen and find ourselves a little something?"

Steve looked out from his spot at the large mass of adults populating his home. He wasn’t all that thrilled at the idea of trying to walk through all of them.

As if sensing his nervousness, the man told hold of Steve’s hand and gave it a tug. “Come on, it’ll be quieter in there anyway.”

Before Steve knew it, he was being guided and pulled through the crowd of suits and pretty dresses until they’d made their way into the kitchen. Everywhere wreaked of perfume and cologne, but at least it was quiet.

“Now then,” The man made a show of cracking his knuckles. “What’ll it be?”

Steve looked up at the kitchen counter that was littered with bottles. All of them looked like they were meant for adults.

He walked over to the fridge. “There’s some juice in the back…” He could see it, pushed behind the trays full of small cubes of cheese and fruit his mom had prepared that day. He just could quite reach on his own.

The man laughed and closed the fridge. Now that he was standing, Steve could tell he was about as tall as his dad.

“You don’t want any of this?” He gestured towards the bottles again.

Steve shook his head. “Mister…” It just dawned on him he didn’t know his name. “My mom wouldn’t want me to have any of that stuff.”

“Please, call me Larry. And are you sure? It could be our little secret.” 

Steve tugged at the hem of his shirt and looked from Larry’s hand on the fridge to where the sound of mom and dad’s guests were laughing in the living room.

“No. I’m alright. I think I should go back n--”

“Alright, alright.” Larry raised an appeasing hand, brushing a hand in the air before opening the fridge. “How about this, I put a little bit of what I’m having in your juice. Your mom wouldn’t mind you having just a sip, right?”

A weird shaky feeling had come over Steve. Like the first time he got a bad grade in school, or when he accidentally knocked a picture frame off the mantle and had to wait for his dad’s punishment all day. Like something was wrong and Steve didn’t know how to make it better.

But he didn’t want to be rude or upset his new friend, so he nodded.

Larry smiled and pulled juice from the fridge and grabbed a random bottle to mix it with.

As he poured the drinks, Steve climbed on top of a kitchen stool behind the counter. Larry sat down a second later and gave Steve a glass cup that looked like juice. He drew a finger to his lips, making a shushing noise. “Our little secret.”

Steve didn’t see how much he poured in, but from the taste it felt like more than just a sip of alcohol. It made his nose burn and his throat sting. After the second taste things felt a little fuzzy and Steve began to cough.

“Whoa, easy there.” Larry patted him on the back, but then his hand stayed and drifted lower.

Steve blinked and turned to stare at Larry in confusion. But the man just sipped from his own drink and acted like nothing was wrong. So… maybe this was alright?

Steve took one more sip to be polite, but he didn’t like the taste of whatever was in his cup.

“You don’t want any more?” Larry asked, leaning in close enough that Steve could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“N... No.” Steve said, gripping his cup with both hands because he didn’t know what else to do with them.

Larry smiled and shook his head, looked towards where the sound of the rest of the party was coming from. “Your parents are swell people.”

“Mmhmm.” Steve nodded, because it was the polite thing to do, even if his head felt a little heavy.

Everyone in Hawkins seemed to always have nice things to say about his mom and dad, but to Steve they were boring. They never wanted to play with him, or see his drawing from school, or any of the other normal stuff that the other kids talked about doing with their parents. In fact, sometimes Steve wondered if they even noticed him at all.

Larry’s hand moved from Steve’s lower back to patting his leg. His big hand resting heavily on Steve’s upper thigh. “You seem like a good boy too.”

Steve looked down at Larry hand. At how his thumb rubbed against the soft fabric of his pants.

“Are you a good boy, Stevie?”

“I…” Steve squeaked and felt his face burn red as Larry hand began to drift up his leg.

“There you are!” A female voice called, and seconds later his mom appeared shaking her head.

Larry’s hand pulled away as he smiled at Steve’s mom. She was on the opposite side of the counter, so she didn’t see anything.

“Your father says it’s getting late so you should get to bed.” She smiled at Larry, as if just now noticing him. “Ah! I see you’ve met Mr. Kline.”

“Irene.” Larry nodded in greeting. “And yes, Steve and I were just getting to know each other.”

It felt like Steve’s heart was trying to pound out of his chest. He looked from his mom to Larry then back to his mom. He wanted to tell her what happened, but it was all so fast he could barely believe it _had_ happened.

His mom held out her hand. “Come to bed now Steve. Let Larry talk with the rest of his friends.”

Steve numbly slid from the stool and grasped his mother’s hand, wondering how she didn’t feel him shaking.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to find his voice again.

“Momma?" He whispered. "Before you walked in... Larry… he--”

His mom stopped and pinched Steve’s shoulder. “That’s _Mr. Kline_ to you young man. He’s a good friend of your daddy and just might be very important someday. So you need to treat him with respect.”

Steve cried out and rubbed at where her nail had dug into his skin.

“Now, say you’re sorry.”

Flinching, Steve forced himself to look over his shoulder. Mr. Kline was still sitting at the counter with that same smile on his face. His eyes never left Steve.

“I… I’m sorry.” Steve whispered.

Mr. Kline’s smile broadened as he stood and approached them. 

“It’s quite alright Steve.” He reached out and patted Steve’s cheek. “You won’t make the same mistake again, I’m sure.”

Steve squeezed his mom’s hand tight as she led him away. He could feel Kline’s gaze on him. Watching him until they’d rounded the corner he couldn’t stare anymore. But even after that Steve still felt him.

He wanted to tell her.

But after what she said about Mr. Kline, he wasn’t sure she’d believe him.

She talked about Kline like everyone else talked about his parents.

Shame suddenly washed over Steve. 

Had it been his fault? Maybe he’d done something… Or maybe it had been an accident. Steve could have just been scared and remembering things wrong. His head was still feeling weird from the drink.

Steve barely remembered him mom tucking him into bed. Everything felt fuzzy and heavy at the same time.

But even after she turned off the lights, Steve’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding in his chest.

He tried to convince himself that it had all been an accident. That Kline wasn’t trying to…

Steve didn’t really know what he was trying to do.

But that night, his normally pleasant dreams were drowned out by the feeling of that man’s hand snaking up his leg.

* * *

It took a few days for that feeling to go away. Just as long as Steve didn't think about it, or sit at the kitchen counter, or look at the stairs for too long, he could almost forget what happened. 

Or so he thought.

Steve was playing outside a week after mom and dad's party, when he heard his parents talking to someone.

At first, he ignored it. It was probably a neighbor or a friend stopping by to ask for something.

Instead he focused his attention toward dropping marbles into the swimming pool. His dad said not to throw rocks, but Steve figured this was different, so it was okay.

Besides, he liked watching the clear colored marbles disappear beneath the water, only signaling they reached the bottom of the pool with a glassy 'clacking' sound.

But eventually the laughter from the house pulled Steve away from the pool. He was curious what or who was making his parents talk so much.

The house felt almost too cold to Steve as he slid the glass door shut behind him. He already missed the warm sun against his skin and the feeling of the free summer breeze curling through his messy hair. 

"Momma?" Steve called out as he walked through the kitchen, purposefully not looking towards the seats beside the counter. 

"In here Steve."

He pictured something boring, like maybe mom laughing with one of the neighbors about adult things like gardening or the mailman. Or maybe his dad read something he thought was stupid in the newspaper and told mom about it.

But Steve’s blood turned to ice when he walked into the living room and saw Mr. Kline sitting on their sofa.

He raised a glass of lemonade in greeting. “Hey there Steve, long time no see.”

Steve remained frozen. He stared wide-eyed at the man on his parents’ couch, smiling like an old friend. Like they shared a secret.

But Steve didn’t want to share a secret. He didn’t want to share anything with Kline.

“Aren’t you going to say hello, son?” His dad’s deep voice made Steve flinch and look at the ground.

“Hello.”  
He dug his toes into the thick shag carpet, wishing he could hide all of himself amidst the thick strands of material. Like how the bunnies in his books liked to hide in tall grass.

“Did you want to join us on the couch?”

Steve didn't. But the expectant ' _don't disappoint us_ ' look his parents were giving him told Steve he didn't have much of a choice.

He dragged his feet over to the couch, putting enough distance between himself and Kline that he couldn't easily be reached.

Kline draped an arm over the couch, close to Steve. “Your parents were just telling me about the trip you’ll be taking to Connecticut in a couple days. You must be excited about that.”

Steve heard his dad clear his throat. “Steve usually stays home for our trips actually."

"Really?" Kline sounded surprised. Maybe even worried. "He just stayed here all on his own?"

All Steve could think about was that hand on the couch, reaching out toward him. What would that hand do if his parents weren't in the room?

"We have a nanny." Steve's mom offered.

"Well then, maybe I can swing by one day and keep Steve company." 

Steve felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He could have sworn he felt Kline's hand slide just a little closer.

"Oh, that would be wonderful! Wouldn't it Steve?" 

Steve stared at his mother's excited face. He knew she wanted him to be eager. But all he felt was terrified.

He shrugged.

“Steve…” His dad gave a warning.

“Is everything alright sweetie?”

He wanted to shake his head. To look his mother in the eye and tell her he was scared of their important friend he was supposed to be respectful of.

Steve chanced a glance at Kline. He was still watching him. Staring at him like everything was fine.

After a moment Kline checked his watch. “You know come to think of it I think Winnie and I have plans that week, so it might not work out anyway.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Steve’s mom tilted her head sympathetically.

Kline smiled and stood up from the couch, patting Steve’s leg on his way up. “Well, you know politics. It waits for no man.”

“Any more progress getting onto city council?”

Steve waited until all the adults were busy with his dad’s question before slipping out of the room. He held his breath and kept his eyes on the ground, afraid that if he made any noise or moved too quick, he’d be called back.

He silently walked back through the kitchen and took extra time sliding the glass door shut behind him as he got outside. His lungs had begun to burn from holding his breath for so long, but Steve kept holding it in until he was standing by the pool.

Then he sank to the ground and let out a shuddering breath. His small hands gripped the edge of the pool as he gasped for air. He tried to distract himself by staring down at the marbles that were barely visible at the bottom. And for the first time in his life, he wished he was just as difficult to see.

Steve used to hate how his parents’ eyes would glaze over when they looked at him. Like they couldn’t or didn’t want to see him. Like he wasn’t worth focusing on.

But now he would give anything to never feel Kline’s eyes on him again. 

The way he watched him reminded Steve of a video his science teacher showed the class once. 

He remembered sitting at his desk in the dark watching a coyote stalked a rabbit.

One of the girls in the back shouted for the rabbit to watch out, but it couldn’t hear her. Steve and the rest of his class just had to watch as the coyote with a smile just like Kline snapped its little neck.

Steve rubbed at his eyes, wishing someone could shout and tell him what to do.

It's not like Kline really did anything. He had been drinking. Maybe he just had too much? Maybe he didn't mean to scare Steve?

And it's not like Steve could go to his parents and complain that Kline was being too friendly. They'd just tell him what he already knew.

That it was nothing.

And even if it was anything, they'd ask him why he'd waited so long to tell.

But… if something _did_ happen, Steve would tell them. He'd run and tell them because they'd have to believe him if it'd just happened right?

Steve took in a deep breath and let himself fall forward into the pool. His clothes weighed him down a little, but he was a strong swimmer.

His bare feet kicked and propelled him towards until Steve reached the bottom of the pool.

The chlorine stung his eyes a little as he carefully retrieved the marbles he'd dropped earlier. 

When he resurfaced, he was half-expecting to find his mom ready to scream at him for getting his clothes wet. She'd yell in the way that mothers do after you scare them. 

But no one was there.

Steve was starting to realize that no one ever really was.

* * *

Carrie the nanny was on the phone again.

She only seemed to talk to Steve when his parents were around. Which was a very brief window from when she arrived, and they left. After that, she’d tell him to behave while she watched tv or disappeared somewhere to call her friends.

Steve didn't mind all that much though. He'd rather be on his own than have some babysitter watching his every move.

Although it would be nice to have someone to play with.

Steve had met a couple kids at school that seemed nice, but most of them went to camps over the summer, and his parents didn't like him inviting kids over to the house.

The Harrington residence, as his mom liked to call it when she answered the phone, felt like a museum to Steve. Full of pretty, breakable things that no one was allowed to touch. He felt like that's how his mom saw him most of the time.

Steve told himself that once he was big enough to have his own house, he'd fill it with soft things and people that loved him.

As Steve flipped through one of the books he'd been assigned for Summer reading, he heard a knock from downstairs. Probably a door to door salesman.

After a few minutes of Carrie continuing to talk on the phone, the doorbell rang.

Steve waited, but Carrie seemed pretty busy.

At the second ring, Steve had set down his book.

"Carrie?" He called as he descended the stairs. 

She was in his dad's office with the door closed, probably trying to find a private place to talk to her friend or boyfriend or whoever she was talking to.

By the time he reached first floor the doorbell had rung a third time.

Steve usually didn't answer the front door. There was always an adult around to do it. Besides whoever was on the other side never wanted to talk to Steve anyway.

But it seemed as if whoever was ringing now wasn't going away. And Steve was tired of hearing the doorbell over and over again.

His hand barely fit around the doorknob as Steve twisted the brass handle and pulled open the front door.

"Hello--?"

Steve's greeting was cut short when his eyes landed on Kline.

He smiled down at him, on hand casually stuffed in his suit pocket like he'd been in the neighborhood and just decided to drop by.

"Hello Steve! Just the boy I'd wanted to see."

Steve stared up at his parents’ friend. That nervous pang in his stomach came back.

"Hello." He said again, holding the door open just a few inches.

If Kline noticed Steve's nervousness, he didn't let it show. He just kept smiling. "Do you usually answer the door when your parents are away? That could be dangerous you know."

"Steve?" Carrie's voice called from behind him. "Who are you-- Oh!"

Kline looked over Steve's shoulder. "You must be Steve's nanny."

Steve could hear Carrie come up behind him. Her stronger hands reached for the doorframe and pulling the it open wider, despite Steve's determined grip on the handle.

"Uh, yeah. Aren't you…?"

Kline grinned and held out a hand. "Larry Kline. Future City Councilman. You've probably seen a few of my flyers. I'm an old family friend of the Harrington's."

Steve scrunched up his nose as Carrie giggled and shook Kline's hand. How did no one else feel what he felt when Kline stared at them?

"Mr. And Mrs. Harrington aren't here right now." Carrie offered apologetically. 

"Oh I know, I know." Kline waved away her words. "I was actually hoping I could take Steve out for the day. maybe grab some ice cream or something." 

"Aw! Isn't that nice Steve?"

Steve barely registered Carrie’s question. His eyes were on Kline. Staring wide-eyed as he turned his friendly gaze back to Steve. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“Steve?” Carrie nudged him.

Steve shook his head and took a step back. “I’m alright. Thank you though.” He bumped into Carrie.

“Come on Steve.” She chided before looking back at Kline. “He’s just a little shy. He’s been saying all day that he wanted to go out.”

No. No. None of that was true. Carrie had barely talked to him at all. She just wanted to get back on the phone. Steve reached up and grabbed a fist full of Carrie’s shirt, trying to get her attention. But instead, Carrie grasped his outstretched hand and extended it toward Kline.

“We won’t be long.” Kline smiled and took Steve’s hand, pulling him out of the house and towards his car.

Steve dug his heels in the pavement and looked over his shoulder. “Carrie!”

But his nanny, the lady who was supposed to watch out for him, only waved. She knew Kline. Just like Steve’s parents knew him. As a trustworthy, respectable businessman. The thought that any of this was odd hadn’t even crossed her mind. She probably just thought Steve was being a baby.

Tears pricked at the corners of Steve’s eyes as Kline hoisted him up into the passenger’s side of his convertible. It felt like when his mom dropped him off on his first day of school. Steve had felt abandoned in a crowd of strangers, and so very small and alone.

But this was so much worse.

* * *

Steve pressed himself against the opposite side of the car, his eyes glued to the window. It felt like his body was trying to vibrate out of his skin the further they drove away from home.

He kept hoping beyond hope that this had all been a mistake. That maybe Kline was just going to take him out for ice cream and drive him home like he said he would.

They reached Mainstreet, and Steve watched as happy families enjoyed the Summer weather.

“You don’t need to be nervous Steve.” Kline said.

Steve watched as they passed the ice cream shop and kept going.

“I promise I’ll take you back home today. We’ll even get ice cream.” 

They turned onto a side street and drove a little longer until Kline pulled in front of what looked to Steve like a white castle. “We just need to take a quick stop at my house.”

Kline got out of his car and walked to the passenger side and waited expectantly.

Steve stared up at him, too scared to blink.

“Don’t you want to come inside?”

Steve shook his head. He just wanted to go home.

Kline’s mouth set into a thin line before he shrugged and leaned down, scooping Steve up in his arms. “It’ll only be a minute. Besides, there’s air conditioning inside.”

Steve squirmed, trying to break free, but Kline just squeezed him tighter to his chest as he skipped up the porch stairs and somehow managed to open the front door and close it behind him. 

He didn’t put Steve down though. Instead he began walking upstairs.

Steve’s eyes darted around, desperately trying to take in all of his surroundings and find some place to run or hide once Kline set him down.

But there was nowhere. Just a bunch of ugly wallpaper that looked like dead petals and trees and a hallway that lead to…

Kline closed the bedroom door behind them with a kick.

“Now, how about you rest here while I get things settled?” Kline said as he set Steve down on the big bed on one side of the room.

He watched as the man walked around the room, pulling curtains closed and shrugged off his jacket.

All Steve could think was _bad, bad, bad._

He had to get out of here. He didn’t want to be in this big scary house sitting on someone else’s bed.

He didn’t want Kline to touch him again.

As Kline disappeared into the bathroom, Steve slid off the bed as quietly as possible and began tiptoeing to the exit.

The carpeted floor muffled his steps as he reached the door and twisted the handle.

Only, it didn’t budge.

Steve tried again. Then once more using both hands, but the door wouldn’t open. 

It was locked. When had Kline locked it?

Just when Steve found the button that would release the door, a large hand settled on Steve’s shoulder as a voice tut-tutted behind him.

“It’s very rude to leave without saying goodbye Steve. Didn’t your parents raise you to be a good boy?”

“Can I go home?” Steve whispered as Kline pulled him from the door and began moving him back towards the bed.

He had removed his tie and his belt. And as he picked Steve up and sat him back down on the bed, Kline was sitting so close he could smell cigars on his breath.

“I will take you home.” Kline said, resting a hand on Steve’s thigh. “But only if you’re a good boy. You want to be a good boy, right Stevie?”

Steve shuddered as Kline’s grip tightened.

“Right Stevie?”

“Yes.” He whispered. He knew his parents wanted him to be good. But he just wasn’t sure if this was good. If this is what they’d wanted. It wasn’t what Steve wanted. But sometimes adults do things that frighten you, or they make you do things that you don’t want to do, and say it makes you good.

Kline smiled and leaned his forehead against the side of Steve’s face. “Look at me Stevie.”

Steve was shaking, but he looked.

The only thing he could see was Kline’s blue grey eyes.

“You’re so beautiful. Like a little angel.” His fingers toyed with a strand of Steve’s wild dark hair and traced down the side of his face. “Has anyone ever kissed you?”

Steve thought of his mom kissing him goodnight. He thought of that one time his grandparents from Italy visited and how many times his Nonna would squeeze his face and kiss his cheeks.

He nodded.

Kline looked amused. “Outside of your family?”

Steve had seen some of his classmates kiss by the swing set or under the monkey-bars. Quick kisses that would send the surrounding kids screaming and teasing. But he had never been one of those kids.

Steve shook his head, and Kline smiled.

He leaned forward and pressed their mouths together. Steve kept his lips sealed tight. He didn’t know where he was supposed to be looking, so he just stared at a lamp beside the bed.

Kline kept kissing, pushing him until Steve was on his back.

The hand that was gripping his thigh slid up and rested heavily atop Steve’s chest, holding him down. He didn’t like how warm Kline felt. It made him feel all muggy pressed between his body and the sheets.

Eventually, Kline stopped kissing him, laying one last peck on the side of Steve’s mouth.

“Can I go home now?”

Steve’s quiet question was met with a throaty laugh. He felt Kline’s fingers slide under the hem of his shirt.

“Oh Stevie, we haven’t done anything yet.”

Steve thought about how Kline had kissed him. The first person outside of his family to kiss him. And to Steve that felt like a lot. Especially when he wasn’t even sure if he had been ready to be kissed yet. And especially not by Kline.

He took in a shaky breath. “I want to go home.”

The hand slowly tickling his skin stopped.

“Are you still nervous?” It started moving again. Kline’s other hand reached for the button on his own pants. “I’ll make you feel good Stevie. You’ll feel good.”

Steve had never seen a stranger undress before. Even when his dad was watching a movie and the person on the screen was undressing, he’d have Steve look away until it was over.

He wanted to look away right now, but he was also afraid of what Kline would do if he did.

“No--” Steve tried to sit up, but Kline shoved him back down on the bed. 

“No!” He screams this time, kicking and scratching and hoping that maybe someone else was home to save him. “No no no!”

A large sweaty hand pressed over Steve’s face, pinching his nose and covering his mouth. Steve had already spent most of his oxygen screaming for help, and now that he couldn’t breathe and his vision began to swim.

He tried to reach up and push away Kline’s hand, but he was already so weak there was nothing he could do. He arms fell loosely by his side as everything went black.

He never quite lost consciousness. It just felt like everything was blurry and Steve was blinking really slow, even when he knew his eyes were open.

One minute Kline was standing by the bed, the next thing Steve knew, he was lying on his stomach and there was a hand on his back. His shirt had been pushed up, and Steve could feel Kline’s hand against his skin.

His other hand was roaming Steve’s body, stroking and pinching everywhere, and it took Steve a moment to realize that Kline had pushed his pants down too.

“Wha…” He tried to speak but was still so dizzy.

“Shhh.” One of Kline’s hands cupped around Steve’s face. “Just relax Stevie.”

Then he felt a new kind of pressure. A burning tearing, forceful feeling.

Steve cried out and tried to twist around to see what was happening, but Kline had pinned him down with his knees.

Out of his peripheral vision, Steve could tell that Kline was naked. He was hunching over Steve and his fingers were touching…

Steve began to scream, but the hand by his face covered his mouth, only letting whimpers escape.

“You’re so pretty Stevie. Just hold on, I don’t want this to hurt.”

But it was already hurting. No one had touched Steve like this before. This couldn’t be _good_. There was no way his parents would want their friend to hurt Steve like this. 

He screamed again and squeezed his eyes shut as he felt like he was being stretched even more. His brain was beginning to short-circuit, unable to understand what was happening to him. Not wanting to.

Kline’s voice seemed to chant over his screams. “I’m sorry Stevie. Hold still Stevie. Doesn’t that feel good Stevie? You’re so good.”

After what felt like an eternity, the burning feeling stopped and the hand over Steve’s mouth released him as Kline stepped back.

He curled onto his side, crying out again at the pain that caused. He just wanted to go home he wanted to go home please just let him go home.

A hand rolled Steve onto his back, and now he could really see Kline. He was standing over Steve, with his penis held in one hand touching it in a way that made Steve want to disappear.

“You’re going to make me feel so good Stevie.” He whispered and began pulling off Steve’s pants all the way. “Don’t you want me to feel good?”

He leaned over Steve, stinking of sweat, cigars, and something new that made Steve want to throw up.

“You’re so pretty when you cry.” He said, running the pad of this thumb under Steve’s eyes and catching some of his tears.

Instead of pulling away, Kline’s thumb traveled down Steve’s face until it rested against his lips.

“So pretty…” Kline repeated, forcing his thumb into Steve’s mouth. 

The large digit pressed down on Steve’s tongue, forcing him to taste his own tears.

On instinct, Steve bit down hard on Kline’s thumb, feeling skin break and tasting blood flow down his throat.

Kline screamed and tried to pull back, but Steve held tight, only releasing when the man brought his other fist down and caught the side of Steve’s face.

Steve rolled off the bed and screamed as he hit the floor, the burning sensation seemed to ignite with every move he made.

But he had to get out of here.

Kline had fallen to his knees, staring in horror at his bleeding hand.

Steve’s mind pushed back the pain and the fear and forced himself to move. He pulled up his pants and began limping to the door. Each step sending a new excruciating pain bolting up his spine.

He reached the door and fumbled with the lock before pulling the barrier open and stumbling out of the bedroom.

The stairs introduced a new problem. He was still so dizzy and was in so much pain he could barely see straight.

Halfway down the curving staircase, Steve heard a roar of anger.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Steve chanced a glance backwards in time to see Kline stumbling from the bedroom with nothing but a bedsheet around his waist.

All thoughts of navigating the steps safely left Steve as he practically threw himself down the stairs to reach the front door. He knew Kline could catch up. He just needed to get outside before that happened.

“Don’t you run away from me!”

Kline was already halfway down the stairs by the time Steve reached the front door.

Sweat rolled down his back as his hands shakily twisted the doorknobs this way and that trying to pull the door open.

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

Steve didn’t look behind him. He couldn’t.

The door finally opened, and Steve cried out in both fear and relief as he bolted from the door, down the steps, and out the gravel driveway.

“Stevie!”

He didn’t stop to hear if Kline was chasing him. He just ran.

Steve ran where he knew adults couldn’t follow. He cut through bushes, backyards and even the woods until his legs couldn’t carry him any further.

By the time he collapsed under some rose bushes, Steve could barely hold him upright. The purple bruises and blood on his face blended him into his floral hideaway. 

Steve got the sense he was close to home. He could make it if he just pushed himself a little more...

But then where would that get him? Carrie was probably still home. And she’d wonder why he ran away from Mr. Kline. Worse yet, she might call him, letting him know where Steve was.

Kline could be on his way to Steve’s house this very minute.

Steve dug his fingers into the loose dirt, grabbing fistfuls of dark earth and felt the tears begin to tumble down his face again.

He wanted to go home. But home didn’t feel safe anymore.

Steve felt the energy leave his body as he crumpled to the dirt, pressing his face into the soil and sobbing until he could barely breathe. Pain bled into exhaustion, which left Steve blinking heavily, trying to fight off sleep until he couldn’t anymore.

The last thing he remembered before he slipped into unconsciousness was the smell of cigars and the taste of his own tears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hopper gets a call about a child found under a rose bush, and Steve is still reeling from what happened to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented! I was really blown away by how many wonderful people shared their thoughts and feelings about this story. It really made me want to get this next update out as soon as possible.

Jim Hopper’s first call of the day came at 3:31 pm.

The fact that there was even a call to begin with was a surprise.

Being the Chief of Police of a small town basically meant you were a glorified attendant to the town’s every minor need. 

Because there weren’t any major problems in Hawkins. Only owls mistaking wigs for nests and the occasional newspaper theft.

No. Apparently the only big problems happened exclusively to Jim and his family. No one else in Hawkins had a daughter that was battling cancer. Sara was a fighter, but his wife had started suggesting moving to a bigger city where better treatment was possible.

But it hadn’t come to that yet. So for now, Hopper was still watching over a town that’s biggest worries were pumpkin crops and the occasional electrical surges.

He used to tell himself he’d happily let the whole town drown in its own problems if it meant that Sara could get better.

That is, until today.

Moira Hutton had called the station saying she’d found a boy hiding under her rose bushes.

At first Hopper figured it was a classic runaway scenario or maybe some kid got lost on his way home. It wasn’t unheard of for kids to get a little turned around in the woods surrounding Hawkins.

But the minute Moira started saying words like “hospital” and “ambulance,” Hopper knew this wasn’t going to be one of his regular cases.

The paramedics had already taken the child to emergency care, but he wasn’t responding to any of their questions. Jim wondered why no one had been able to identify the kid yet. Hawkins was a small town. Everyone knew everybody else whether you liked it or not.

It wasn’t until Hopper was pulling back the green hanging curtain that surrounded each bed that he understood why they hadn’t had luck getting a positive ID.

The boy was a trembling mess of cuts and bruises that left him unrecognizable. A dark purple bruise practically sealed one of his eyes shut, and his other undamaged one stared vacantly into the middle distance.

The doctors didn’t even know what was exactly wrong with him because he wouldn’t talk, and he wouldn’t let anyone get too close.

“Hey kid.” Hopper kept his voice low and soothing as he sat down in a chair beside the hospital bed. He’d considered closing the curtain again, but something told him that would spook the boy. “My name’s Jim Hopper.”

No response. No sign that he had even been heard.

Jim took a moment to get a good look at the child. And what he saw made his blood boil.

Aside from the injury covering his eye, there was a long black and blue bruise that covered his mouth and jaw. Hopper knew a handprint when he saw one.

A thick wool blanket was wrapped around the child’s shoulders, covering up the rest of him, but Jim had a sick feeling he’d find similar injuries beneath. 

The question was, had the attack been physical or sexual abuse, and how far did the attacker get before the kid managed to get away.

“Your parents must be worried sick about you.” He tried to fish for information.

The child slowly shook his head. 

At least that was progress. But the answer raised even more questions. Hopper did think it was a little odd that no adults had called into the station about a missing child.

 _Someone_ had to care about this kid.

“Really?” Jim replied, not making any sudden movements so not to spook the child. “If my daughter was missing, I’d never stop looking. She’s about your age, you know.”

One good eye met Hopper’s gaze. He looked frightened, but it seemed as if the talking helped.

“Her name’s Sara. She’s sick.” Jim looked down at where his hands were fiddling with his hat. “Really sick actually… But she’s brave.”

When Hopper looked up again, he noticed that most of the trembling had subsided.

“You’re brave too, you know?”

The brown eye blinked.

“You must have been really brave getting away, fighting back, and making it this far.”

The little boy shook his head. “I didn’t… I couldn’t…”

It was barely more than a whisper, but at least he was talking. Even if what he said made Jim’s stomach twist.

“You did though.” Hopper murmured. “You got away. You survived and got yourself here so we can help.”

He didn’t know for sure if the kid had managed to actually get away. But in the case of child abduction and abuse, the victim either ends up dead or put right back where they were first abducted so as not to raise suspicion. The fact that this child was found hiding in a stranger’s yard meant he was hiding from someone. Which meant there was a good chance he got away before the assailant had done everything they’d intended to do.

“Are… Are you a sheriff?” The boy’s voice was scratchy. Curiosity mixed with the fear reflecting in his one good eye.

Hopper nodded. Little kids were always mystified by the badge. It reminded them of the cowboys they’d see on tv. But if that childlike wonder could help Hopper gain a little trust, he’d take it.

“Yeah kid,” He smiled. “I catch the bad guys. But sometimes I need a little help, you know?”

The child nodded solemnly. “Like a deputy.”

“Exactly like a deputy. Someone that trusts me to help them do the right thing.”

The boy’s arms wrapped a little tighter around himself, as if anticipating what was coming next.

“Do you think you could trust me, kid? Could you trust me enough to tell me what happened?”

The boy looked down, tucking his feet under him and making himself look even smaller than he already was.

“You don’t have to tell me everything. But the doctors won’t be able to help make it better unless they know what’s wrong.”

Silence fell over the room as Hopper patiently waited to see if he’d get an answer. He wasn’t going to rush or force this.

After a moment, the kid looked up. “What are you gonna do?”

Hopper leaned back in his chair, choosing his words very carefully.

“Whatever you need me to do. I’ll see this through, I promise. You’re not going to be alone.”

The boy nodded and looked down again, fiddling with the blanket between his fingers.

“How about we start slow?” Hopper offered. “You could tell me your name?”

More silence filled the room. Then, so quietly he almost missed it, Jim heard the boy whisper. “Steve.”

“Steve.” He nodded. “That’s a good name. Are you still hurting Steve?”

He knew it was a dumb question. He could tell the kid was probably in pain just by looking at him. But he needed to keep the kid talking. Keep him opening up until he could find the bastard that was responsible for this.

Steve nodded.

“If you want Steve, you can tell the nurse where you’re hurting, and they can help. They won’t tell anyone else. They just want to help.”

Hopper worried that he’d pressed too far. That he was asking for too much too fast.

“I promise no one’s going to hurt you again.”

That sad tired eye stared at him for a long while. Hopper knew when he was being weighed, measured, and judged. He tried to remain still, maintaining enough eye contact to let Steve know he was trustworthy, but not enough to make him uncomfortable.

Eventually, Steve nodded.

Hopper smiled. “Thank you, Steve. Let me go get the nurse.”

* * *

As he exited the room, Hopper sighed in relief.

He could make this better. He was going to get this kid some help.

It didn’t take long to find Steve’s assigned nurse. She left him with some paperwork while she did her examination. Unfortunately, there still wasn’t much to fill out. He’d gained the kids trust enough for the doctors to get close, but as far as basic information went, all Hopper got was a first name. And there were a lot of kids in Hawkins.

“Hey Chief?”

Hopper looked up to see Officer Wilson walking up to him.

“Hey Ross. Helluva day huh?” He sighed.

The police officer shook his head. “Not what you’d expect from Hawkins.”

Ross had been on the force a long time, and it showed in his worn down, heavy frame. Jim figured he’d be retiring soon, which wouldn’t be terrible. Wilson had a tendency to let things slide, and Hawkins could use some newer officers who weren’t afraid of a little exercise.

“Has anyone called in about a missing kid yet?”

There was still the chance that someone had been looking for Steve and only called the police after they’d searched for a while.

“‘Fraid not. But Flo called in on the radio. Your wife called the station, sounded pretty urgent.”

A familiar weight settled in the pit of his stomach. Ever since Sara got sick, every call from home could be the one that tells him his daughter is dead. 

And God did that scare him.

“Did she leave a message or…?”

Wilson stopped next to the row of chairs where Hopper was seated. “She just said to call as soon as you can.”

Hopper nodded and looked back to Steve’s room. “Uh, can you do me a favor and let me know when the nurse comes back?”

“She with the boy right now?” Wilson asked as he settled in next to Jim.

“Yeah.” Hopper dug into his pocket for some spare change. “Hopefully we’ll be able to get more from him later.”

Wilson shook his head. “Breaks my heart that someone would scare a kid like that.”

“We’ll get them.” Hopper said as he spotted a payphone down the hall. “We owe the kid that much.”

Jim’s gut churned as he dropped a couple dimes into the slot and began dialing home. He closed his eyes, trying to separate his job from his family. He couldn’t bring what he was feeling right now into whatever Diane was going to say.

“Jim?” Her voice shook over the phone and he couldn’t tell if it was a bad connection or if it was her.

“Hi honey, Ross said you’d called, is everything alright?”

Silence crackled over the line until a haggard sob boosted Hopper’s heart into overdrive.

“Jim… It’s Sara.”

He braced a hand against the wall. “What happened? Did she--?”

“No! No, she’s… She’s still alive, but she had another attack. Her lungs...”

Hopper squeezed his eyes shut. Sara was alive. But they still weren’t out of the woods.

“Jim, the paramedics are on their way. They’re going to take us to Chicago Medicine.”

“Why aren’t they taking you to Hawkins General?”

He could hear her breath hitching on the other end of the call.

“I need the doctors there to see her, we can’t keep living like this anymore.”

She was right. The best the surroundings hospitals could do for them was delay the inevitable. Give them more time between Sara’s episodes. Diane wanted their daughter better, not _less sick_. They both did.

More silence filled the line. But Hopper could already anticipate what she’d say next.

“Honey, I need you here with us. Sara needs you she…” Her voice broke off in a sob.

“She was so scared and weak, but she kept asking where you were. Jim, she needs her dad.”

Hopper felt his heart breaking at the thought of Sara calling out for him.

“Okay,” He looked around until he spotted a clock on the wall. “Okay go with the paramedics. I’ll meet you there. I’m leaving right now.”

The relief felt palpable over the phone. 

“Okay.” Diane whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Hopper waited for her to disconnect before placing the phone back on its receiver. He rested his head against the machine, trying to calm himself down before he’d have to get behind the wheel.

He just wanted to be next to his wife, to hold Sara right now. He needed to be there.

“Everything alright Chief?”

Wilson’s voice brought him back to the present.

“Uh, no.” He rubbed at his eye. “Sara had another episode. They’re rushing her to the hospital.”

“Here?”

“No. To some place in Chicago. They need me there.” He fiddled with his hat. The one that made him look like a cowboy. Like a sheriff.

“Listen, I’ll be back soon. Keep an eye on this case for me until I get back, alright?”

Wilson nodded. “Anything you want me to tell the kid?”

Hopper sighed, feeling guilt gnawing at his insides, telling him to stay. “Just let him know I’ll be back.”

He _would_ be back.

Hopper promised himself that over and over as he got into his cruiser and drove through the night.

The doctors would help Sara. Make her stable. Better.

He just needed to make sure his own child was safe and healthy before he could worry about someone else’s.

Except…

Sara never got better.

Even after Jim and Diane moved out of Hawkins and closer to the clinics that gave their daughter her best shot. Even after the extra medical bills, special consultants, and health alternatives they tried.

It was a nauseating carousel of tears and new medications. Of late nights trying to comfort and hold Sara together as she cried and vomited until she could barely breathe.

Time and life outside of his family stopped existing to Hopper. He didn’t have room for anything else.

And after Sara died, nothing mattered at all.

His relationship with Diane became strained. He self-medicated with beer and pills to chase away the grief. To drown out the memories.

He tried to move on. Taking on police work in Chicago, trying to save his marriage.

But the loss of Sara left a hole inside Jim. One that seemed to spread and consume every waking minute until he felt like ‘empty’ was all he was.

Hopper had all but forgotten about the little broken boy he left behind in Hawkins.

* * *

Steve never told the nurse who hurt him.

But he answered all her questions, told her what hurt, and let her do a full examination.

He was waiting for the sheriff to come back. He trusted Jim Hopper.

He’d promised he’d help Steve make it all better. He’d protect him.

That alone kept Steve strong as the nurse cleaned and examined him, even when the touches reminded him of what Kline did.

But then after the nurse was done, the other police officer came in and told him Hopper had to leave. He promised he’d be back, but Steve could feel fear begin to sour his stomach again.

When the nurse asked if there was anyone who she could call, he gave her Carrie’s number.

His nanny had rushed over to the hospital immediately, unable to ask any answers and only able to offer more questions.

Steve thought that maybe if Hopper had been here, he would have been able to bring order.

But he wasn’t. And the hospital couldn’t do anything except discharge Steve into the Carrie’s care. 

He wasn’t even sure if she’d told them his full name or not. He remembered her saying no a lot. The shock had begun weigh him down like a heavy blanket that blocked the details from his mind.

Steve had expected her to ask what happened. To maybe ask if Kline had hurt him.

He could hear that question ringing in the car as she drove him home.

But Carrie barely said a thing the entire drive. She didn’t even look at him. She seemed nervous. Scared. Like Steve was a ticking bomb that would blow up in her face.

“Let’s move past this Steve.” She finally said as she tucked him into bed. “We shouldn’t tell your parents; they’ll just be scared and angry.”

Steve stared up at Carrie. It still felt like everything else was moving too fast for him to process. Like he was trapped in a fog and it took extra time for him to understand what was happening.

“You don’t want to make them angry, right Steve?”

He found himself nodding. He didn’t want to scare his parents. Even if he didn’t understand what they would be angry about. 

Did she mean they would be angry at him?

He didn’t want that. He couldn’t stand anyone else scaring or hurting him.

Carrie seemed to relax at his response.

She got up and stopped by the door, pausing to smile at Steve before turning out the light.

“It’ll be our little secret.”

And just like that, as quickly as the lights went out, Steve was back on Kline’s bed with those words being whispered in his ear.

Steve curled in on himself, wincing at the pain it still caused. The nurse had given him some pills to make it better, but they’d begun to wear off.

He closed his eyes and buried his face in the stuffed lion in his arms, trying to convince himself that he was safe. And that he wasn’t alone.

Steve told himself that the sheriff would come back. He’d protect him.

He promised he would.

* * *

Weeks had gone by. 

When his parents asked about the bruises, Carrie told them he'd fallen down the stairs, and they accepted that. 

Hopper still hadn’t come back, and before Steve knew it, his mom was dropping him off on his first day back to school.

“Now don't forget, if you need anything call your father's office and the secretary should put you through if he's not busy. But only call if it's an emergency."

Steve kept his eyes fixed on the school outside the car window.

His mom had told him the exact same thing ever since he'd started school. They both knew how pointless it was to actually call that number. But the school needed an emergency contact _just in case_ , so Steve let his parents keep playing pretend that they cared.

That used to bother him a lot more. Before…

"Are you sure you're alright sweetie?" Him mom asked. But he got the feeling it was code for _'why haven't you gotten out of the car yet?_ '

"Yeah." He answered, pushing open the car door and stepping out onto the sidewalk.

It was cold, and Steve clutched his backpack to his chest at the sight of all the people moving around him. All the adults he didn't know.

"Steve?"

He quickly turned around, hoping his mom was going to say something like _'forget school, let's head back home_ ,' or maybe even ' _I love you, be safe_.'

But instead she gestured to the open car door.

"Oh." Steve said, dutifully closing the door behind him.

The day passed by excruciatingly slow. Everywhere Steve turned, there was someone towering over him, looking at him. Some teachers welcomed him back with a pat on the back that had him flinching away and bumping into desks.

By the time lunch period came around, Steve felt like a coil wound too tight. 

He sat alone, staring at his lunch. He was hungry, but he couldn't find it in himself to touch the sandwich on his tray.

Every time someone walked up behind him, passing his table and catching him by surprise, Steve felt the tension continue to pool under his skin, churning like hot coals just beneath the surface making him want to bolt from the crowded room.

"Are you gonna eat that?"

Steve looked further down the table at a boy about his age. "Huh?"

The boy slid until he was across from Steve and pointed at the sandwich.

"Oh. No." Steve shook his head.

"Cool." The boy said, before plucking it from his plate and taking a huge bite.

"I'm Tommy." He said around another mouthful of food.

"I'm--" Steve flinched again as another teacher came up from behind him. "Steve." He finished in a whisper.

Tommy snickered. "You're twitchy."

Steve ducked his head down in embarrassment.

He'd been looking forward to going back to school. To making friends and learning things. He used to like it when Mr. Clarke and some of Steve's other teachers called on him in class.

Now, he couldn't trust a single thing they said. Because with every compliment, a little voice in Steve's head told him to watch out. That they didn't really mean what they said, or that they wanted something from him.

The little voice kept screaming that he should do everything possible to make sure none of the adults pay any attention to him at all.

Steve shrank away as another boy bolted past.

Tommy was still staring at him, still grinning, but he was looking a Steve differently now. Like he was trying to figure him out.

“Teacher’s coming.” He said, looking over Steve’s shoulder. And sure enough, one of the lunch monitors passed them.

Steve was still a little startled as the adult walked by, but not as bad as before.

“Thanks.” He whispered, unable to really say anything else because it wasn’t like he could tell Tommy _why_ he was so spooked.

“No problem.” Tommy shrugged, taking another bite of the sandwich.

They sat like that for the rest of the lunch period. With Tommy happily talking away and warning Steve when someone was coming up behind him like it was some kind of fun game they made up.

Steve thought this was going to be a one-time thing. That Tommy probably got bored of him and would find new kids to be friends with.

But he came back the next day. And the day after that too. Always snacking on Steve’s lunch and drowning out the thoughts in Steve’s own head with his loud voice and funny stories.

After a few days, they’d even started walking to class together.

Steve felt safer around his new friend. It didn’t bother him that Tommy was bigger than he was. In fact, it was kind of comforting.

Tommy would walk beside Steve, occasionally nudging other kids out of their way or standing between Steve and some of the adult hall monitors. Tommy seemed to like to push people around. He probably saw it all as an extension of the “game” they’d started in the cafeteria, but Steve didn’t mind.

Because with each passing day, with each shared sandwich, Steve felt a little less afraid.

Tommy distracted him, and made him feel safe. No one would mess with Tommy. And the kids that tried usually ended up knocked on their back.

After the first week, Steve started responding to the stuff Tommy said. He’ll never forget the crazy happy grin that crossed Tommy’s face when that happened. 

“Yeah Steve!” He’d crooned and drummed his hands on the lunchroom table to mimic a standing ovation. It had been silly, and a little embarrassing, but Steve talked a lot more after that. If talking is what it took to keep Tommy happy then Steve would gladly do it.

Because unintentionally or not, Tommy helped drown out the nightmares when Steve couldn’t himself.

And there was no way he could thank him enough for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys thought!  
> We're jumping to Steve's early teen years in the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve starts high school and struggles with the memories of what happened to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up having to split this chapter up in two because it was getting waaay too long. But the good news is the next update is practically done and will be up a lot faster than this one was!  
> Thank you to everyone who left comments on this fic! It really made me excited to continue exploring this story!

When he was nine, Steve stopped having nightmares about monsters hiding under his bed.

He used to be terrified of them. Big scary beasts with a hundred sharp teeth and clawed hands.

Those monsters weren't real.

Instead, Steve's nightmares were filled with the taste of burning alcohol, cigar smoke, and the feeling of hands holding him down and hurting him.

That was the only way Steve could describe what Kline did. He had been dizzy and terrified, so maybe that's why what Kline did didn't make sense.

Kline just kept repeating over and over about how it was going to feel good.

None of it did. And the more Steve thought about it the sicker it made him feel.

So, he stopped. Or at least he tried to.

Whenever his mind would begin to drift back to that day, he’d jump in the pool and swim until he could barely stay afloat. Or he’d go to his room and listen to music so loud he couldn’t hear himself think.

Or sometimes he’d just run. He liked to run. No one could hurt him if they couldn’t catch him.

He’d been doing a lot more running ever since _that_ day.

And on the days Kline visited, or his parents invited him over, Steve would sneak out and run to Tommy's house before any of the adults could stop him. 

Tommy would never ask why Steve was so skittish the first few minutes of him showing up on his doorstep (although Steve knew he noticed). He'd just greet him with a smile and ask him if he was hungry after all that running.

Tommy never stopped being Steve's self-proclaimed bodyguard. 

At school, wherever Steve went Tommy followed. Not like a shadow though. Tommy was way too loud and had too big a personality for that.

He felt more like a protective brother, even though they were both the same age. Tommy wasn't afraid of pushing back at the people that pushed him, and Steve was grateful for it.

He was Steve's friend, plain and simple. 

And when Tommy started dating Carol, he wasn’t jealous. If anything, it felt like Steve got a bonus friend out of the deal.

"Jesus Steve." Carol gave an exasperated sigh as she and Tommy walked up to his locker. "Will you ever do anything about that hair?"

As if to prove her point, she reached up and tried to style it into any one cohesive shape.

Steve batted her hand away with a smile. “Will you ever stop smothering me?”

Ever since he was little his hair had been a mess. Always sticking up and defying any comb or brush his mom tried to tame it with.

But while his mom's actions had been out of embarrassment, Carol's were from fondness.

Carol stuck out her chin and squinted her eyes at Steve. “Yes. Once you prove I don’t need to anymore.”

"Come on Carol,” Tommy teased, “He likes it like that because it makes him look taller."

"Like I need the hair for that." Steve retorted.

All that swimming and running he’d done when he was younger had jolted his body into a growth spurt. Sure, Steve wasn't the tallest kid in school or anything, but at least he didn't feel so small or completely helpless anymore.

Tommy reappraised Steve. “You’re right. But the hair does help distract from that dopey face.”

“Please, his face is fine.” Carol patted Steve’s cheek.

“Hey!” Tommy tugged her closer to him.

This was a song and dance of theirs that Steve had long gotten used to.

Carol would say or do something to make Tommy jealous, Tommy would get all possessive, they’d make out, and things would go back to normal for a while until Carol wanted more attention.

It’s not like they were unhappy together. The total opposite actually. Steve just got the sense that Carol liked to flirt, but only when she knew her boyfriend would be there to kick the ass of anyone who wanted to take things further. Carol liked feeling both desired and safe, and Tommy like defending what he considered his.

They were a perfect match.

Carol grabbed at the collar of Tommy’s shirt and pulled him into a kiss that would make the teacher’s uncomfortable if any of them saw.

Steve looked away, giving the couple a false sense of privacy in the crowded high school hallway. Someone a few lockers down shouted “ _Save it for Junior Year, Freshmen_!”

Steve hadn’t really cared all that much about kissing and dating. Every time he thought about it his brain went a little fuzzy. Not in the good way that Tommy talked about when he described what it felt like to kiss Carol for the first time. More like when you get bad TV reception and everything looks grey and wobbly and sounds distant. It made Steve nervous. Made him think about things he’d tried really hard to forget.

Carol broke the kiss and wiped at some lip gloss that had smudged near Tommy’s mouth.

“Hannah’s having a house party on Wednesday. It’s supposed to only be for seniors, but she can sneak us in.”

“Sweet!” Tommy elbowed Steve. “Our first house party! Maybe we’ll finally get you laid.”

Steve rolled his eyes and assumed a soft feminine southern drawl. “Please kind sir, I am saving myself for my wedding night.”

The trio descended into a fit of laughter that was quickly shushed by some passing students.

It’s what Steve always did when either Tommy or Carol brought up his sex life. Joking about it always distracted them enough that Steve never had to come up with an honest response.

But they were in high school now. The time when apparently literally everyone was hooking up and experiencing all kinds of firsts.

Steve could probably only go for so long until Tommy pulled him aside and seriously asked him if there was something going on.

“I’m gonna be late for class.” Carol complained as the bell rang.

Tommy wrapped his arms around her. “Since when has that mattered?”

“It doesn’t. But I want to get a good seat at the back of the class. Unless you don’t mind me sitting closer to the front. I hear Mr. McKinley is really hot…”

“Go.” Tommy rolled his eyes and released Carol. “By I am not above fighting a teacher if I hear you’ve tried anything.”

“That’s why I love you.” She called over her shoulder as she disappeared into the crowded hall.

“I might as well head to class too.” Steve offered, turning to find his math class.

“Hey,” Tommy said, falling in step with Steve. “What’s up with you bro? You’ve barely talked at all today.”

“Nothing.” Steve shrugged, flinching as he accidentally bumped into another student.

Tommy grinned. “Aw, are you nervous about being a Freshman? You want me to shove people out of your way again like the good old days?”

Steve snorted. “No. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night is all.”

“Ooo, who’s the lucky girl?”

He gave Tommy a shove.

“Or was it a guy?” Tommy continued with a conspiratorial grin. “You know I always thought you were hiding something…”

Steve smiled, but internally it felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

He had always been terrified that people could see right through him. That maybe they could tell there was something broken inside of him.

But instead of expressing any of that, Steve just shook his head and grinned. “You’re just saying that because then you wouldn’t have to worry about me stealing Carol away from you.”

Tommy shoved Steve back playfully as they neared Steve’s class. “See you in Biology.”

“Yeah, see ya.” Steve waved as he turned into the classroom.

* * *

The rest of Steve’s classes went by in somewhat of a blur. He’d tried to focus on the stuff the teachers were saying, but Steve’s mind kept drifting back to Tommy’s words.

He’d phrased it like a joke. Just teasing. But Steve had been wondering about how he felt about boys for a while.

Girls were pretty, but Steve felt the same way when he looked at guys too.

But every time he thought about kissing a boy, Steve’s brain would go all fuzzy again, and not in a good way. It was frustrating. And the scary part was that Steve wasn’t sure if he thought about kissing boys because of what had happened.

He didn’t think so. But it was hard to think beyond that.

Tommy slumped next to Steve. “You couldn’t have saved us some seats in the back of class?”

“I couldn’t find any together.” Steve apologized and scooched his desk closer. “How was your day?”

“Glad it’s almost lunch. I only had like one class with Carol.”

“Lame.” Steve whispered. 

Before Steve could talk about his day, Mrs. Fern had turned off the lights and was pulling out a slide projector.

“Good morning everyone.” Her voice was almost drowned out by the class talking. “I hope you’ve all had a good first day back. We’re going to start our first class with something a little intense, but the principal wants us to cover this as soon as possible.”

With their interests piqued, Mrs. Fern clicked to the first slide.

A diagram of the human anatomy appeared on the projector.

“The human body,” Mrs. Fern began. Her voice was once again drowned out by the sound of the class groaning in disgust. 

She raised her hands, trying to regain control of the room. “I know, I know, but you’re all entering a new and very exciting phase of your life. And we want to help you guys understand all the changes that are happening to your changing bodies.”

“Oh my god.” Tommy rolled his head back.

“You don’t have to like it Mr. Hill,” Mrs. Fern squinted into the dark. “but please allow the rest of the class to be educated today.”

“How did she know it was me?” Tommy whispered.

Steve lazily watched as Mrs. Fern began her presentation. “Probably because the other teachers warned her about you.”

“--We don’t have a lot of time so we’re going to get right into the main topic today.” Mrs. Fern clicked to medical drawing of a naked man and women.

“Sexual activity.”

The entire class shifted nervously in their seats.

“Now, the safest form of sex is no sex, and it should only be an act shared between a husband and wife, preferably with the use of Natural Family Planning. But we’re just going to go over the basics today purely for educational reasons. If you have any other questions, please ask your parents.”

“Like that’s gonna happen.” Tommy muttered.

Steve was going to say something, but a funny feeling had been creeping up his spine. Maybe it was Chuck’s loud breathing behind him, or the AC just shutting off. But something felt weird. Things were getting fuzzy again and he didn’t like it.

Mrs. Fern was still talking as the next slide clicked over.

“Now, when the male sexual organ gets aroused, it retains a rigid shape that allows for intercourse to occur.”

The rest of the class was awkwardly listening to this lecture, avoiding eye contact with anyone at all costs.

But while they were focused on the projector screen, Steve was distracted by other more disturbing images in his own mind.

Details were coming back now. He remembered being on Kline’s bed. Not being able to move. And how his penis looked…

“The female body requires some preparation before intercourse. Lubrication and or some stretching helps this process.”

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out Mrs. Fern and her pictures because now all he could think about were Kline’s fingers pressing into him. He could feel a cold sweat break out all over. Dripping down his back and over skin that now felt too hot and constricting. The room suddenly felt far too small. Too crowded. Steve gripped the edges of his desk.

“The legal age of consent is eighteen. If an adult attempts to initiate any kind of intimate or sexual act with you before this age, that is referred to as predatory behavior. It is not acceptable, and you should seek out an adult to help as soon as possible.”

Steve felt nauseous. Pieces of an ugly puzzle were sliding into place, and now he didn’t want to look at the finished image.

He knew on some deep subconscious level what Kline was trying to do. But it was so long ago that Steve had managed to distant himself from the details.

The idea that an adult would try to have sex, to rape a child was way more than Steve could process when he was just nine. He separated himself from those memories. From the main elements until in his mind Kline had just been trying to hurt him. That was it. A watered-down truth that was easier to swallow and accept than actual child assault.

Steve didn’t want to be here anymore. Not in this small hot room. Not surrounded by students with Chuck’s breath hitting the back of his neck. Not listening to Mrs. Fern describe things that Steve should be learning _now_ and not when he was nine years old with his face pressed into a mattress.

He heard Mrs. Fern say his name as he stood up. Heard some classmates chuckle to themselves as he bolted from the room and ran down the hall. But it didn’t matter. He needed to get out of here.

Steve didn’t stop running until he was shoving the school doors open, hearing them slam against the brick walls from the force he used. The cool Indiana air filled his lungs and urged Steve forward. He kept running until he reached the bleachers by the track field.

He felt the old rickety wood shake as he climbed to the top seats. Felt the white paint chip under his nails and splinters dig into the palms of his hands as he sat down and gripped the wooden bench beneath him.

He felt it all. But none of it mattered.

Steve felt his lungs burn and scream in protest after all that running. And he let himself focus on that. Let himself believe that was why there were tears trailing down his face.

He wasn’t scared, just a little winded. That was all.

“Hey.”

Steve looked up as Tommy ascended the last few steps of the bleachers. Steve’s bookbag was awkwardly clutched in one had. He hadn’t even realized he’d left it in the classroom.

Tommy settled down next to him and looked out at the empty field. The grass was beginning to die. “You okay?”

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but at first nothing came out. Like the truth and a lie were both fighting to climb up his throat and be known, but all they managed was suffocation. What was wrong with him?

Steve squeezed his eyes shut again and curled over, hiding his face in the palms of his hands.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Tommy continued. “Keith threw up after Mrs. Fern started describing how women give birth.”

The sound of wind blowing through dry leaves was the only audible noise until a snort escaped Steve’s lips. He looked over at Tommy, who was still staring out at the field, but there was a knowing smile on his face.

“How bad was it?”

“Terrible.” Tommy turned to face Steve. “Mrs. Fern had to clear the classroom.”

“Jesus.” Steve laughed. It sounded a little hollow, even to his own ears, but it felt good. It felt better than not being able to breathe.

Tommy’s features softened momentarily. He had that look in his eye he always gets when he’s being serious. That _‘I know I need to be a wise, responsible adult right now, but I don’t quite know how’_ look. 

“Are you going to be okay?”

Steve considered telling the truth: that he didn’t know.

But then he’d have to try and explain why, and actually speaking the words “I was sexually abused by a family’ friend when I was nine” just felt so insurmountable right now.

“Yeah.” Steve said instead. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

That night, Steve locked his bedroom door before climbing into bed. Something he hadn’t done for a long while. Not since he’d convinced himself that Kline was just trying to hurt him.

But now all the memories were back. All the frightening and confusing feelings that had haunted him since that day. And Steve just needed to feel like he could protect himself from the monsters outside with one flimsy lock.

That night he dreamed he was back in Mrs. Fern’s classroom. The school was empty, and it was dark. The only light coming from the projector clicking through the slides of her presentation.

And then he wasn’t alone anymore. _He_ was there. Grabbing Steve, touching him, bending him over his desk and whispering _“You’re going to make me feel so good Stevie”_ into his ear as black and white images were projected across their bodies. Steve was screaming, and it wasn't until he was sitting bolt up-right in his bed with a raw throat that he realized that those screams hadn't been a dream.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's first high school party leads to a whole slew of new experiences and revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience and support for this fic! This update ended up being a little longer than expected, but I didn't want to split it up again since the previous chapter was supposed to be part of this update.  
> You comments have been so incredibly supportive of this story and really make my day. I can't wait to hear what you think of this chapter!  
> We're going to see at least one more familiar face next chapter, so get excited!

Hannah’s party was overwhelming, but in a good way. The exact way Steve needed it to be.

He needed to be able to listen to music blast from stereo speakers so loud it vibrated off his skin and drowned everything else out. He needed to be able to drink cheap beer that smoothed out the sharp edges of his mind. He needed to be able to stand in a crowded room and not feel like anyone was watching him.

Seniors danced with seniors and dragged each other to dark corners where they could make out.

Steve, Tommy, and Carol stood on the outer edge of the ocean of warm bodies that moved to the music like one cohesive wave. The trio quietly promising each other that when they were no longer freshmen they would be at the center of that moving mass. But not tonight.

Tonight, they were just here to watch, drink, and let loose a little bit before the school year really began.

"Hey you guys!” Hannah called, stumbling over to them. "You liking your first high school party?"

Hannah had been the best friend of Carol's older sister before she left for college. She'd always been nice to them, even if some of the other seniors told her it wasn't cool to hang out with grade schoolers.

"It's great!" Carol shouted over the music.

"You guys been taking advantage of the free booze?" Hannah shook her plastic cup. From the way she was swaying on her feet, it was clear that _she_ definitely had.

On the way over to the party Carol had mentioned that her sister told her that Hannah and her boyfriend Tyler had a really nasty breakup right before school started.

Apparently she was taking it pretty hard.

"Hey!" Hannah called again, her eyes widening as she peered into Steve's cup. "Have you all just been drinking beer? That shit's practically water! Try this!"

She tilted her cup out to Steve. He took it to avoid her spilling it all over.

Tommy peered over Steve's shoulder as he swirled the lighter liquid around experimentally. "What is it?"

"Bourbon. It's good!" Was all Hannah said as she lifted the cup up to Steve's lips.

It didn't taste like beer. It was something a lot stronger. And the familiar burn as it slid down Steve's throat caused him to go rigid. He'd tasted this before.

Steve's throat constricted. He managed to give Hannah her cup back before leaning forward and coughing.

"Whoa! Hey!" Hannah took a step back as Tommy and Carol patted his back. "Sorry buddy, didn't think it was that strong."

"No, you're fine." Steve wheezed, standing straight again and rubbing at the tears that had collected at the corners of his eyes. "I think it just went down the wrong way."

Hannah looked a little sorry still, but a call from a friend sent her turning and forging through the crowd until she disappeared completely.

"She makes it look so easy." Carol says. And Steve's not sure if she's talking to them or just herself.

"That'll be us someday." Tommy nods. "Pretty soon we'll be having our own parties and moving through crowds twice this size like it's nothing."

"Really? Because it feels like the whole town is here." 

Steve could hear his friends talking, but it sounded far away. His ears were ringing and it felt like his throat was burning up.

His mind kept trying to drag him back to the last time he'd tasted bourbon. When he was nine, and there was a big hand on his back slowly drifting downward…

"Hey!" Tommy shook his shoulder. "You okay?"

Steve covered the shiver that ran up his spine with a cough. "Yeah. Um, I think I'm going to get a new drink."

"I'll come with you! I wanna see what else they have!" Tommy turned back to Carol. "You coming?"

Carol looked out at the sea of people. "Nah, I think I'm going to go dance."

Steve watched Tommy follow Carol's gaze until he spotted a cluster of seniors from the basketball team. 

"Okay well, don't get too friendly." Tommy said. And Steve knew Tommy would probably sneak away soon to make sure that didn't happen.

Steve didn't mind though. He was used to it. He and Carol learned early on that they had to share Tommy, otherwise none of them would be happy.

With far less grace and ease, Steve and Tommy weaved through the crowds, trying hard not to accidentally spill drinks or bump into the more intimidating looking partygoers.

The kitchen was quieter. Steve thought that would help him catch his breath, but instead he was again reminded of the last time he was in a quiet kitchen during a party.

"Shit." Tommy drawled, grabbing a random bottle and staring at the label. "Where do they get all this stuff?"

"Probably stole it from their parents." Steve said, thinking of the forbidden liquor cabinet in his dad's office.

He spotted a cooler, and upon lifting the lid found plenty of unopened beer cans. Cool, and undiluted. Perfect.

Steve cracked open a can and tilted his head back, feeling the chilled liquid run down his throat, cooling the burning feeling in his chest. But it wasn’t flowing fast enough.

“Hey.”

He looked to his side. A senior in a letterman jacket was dangling a set of car keys in his hands. “That’s not how you chug a beer freshman.”

Steve stared at the keys.

“Here,” The senior grabbed a beer. “let me show you.”

In one effortless motion, he’d stabbed a key into the bottom of the can and tilted his head back. The beer flowed a lot faster, almost quicker than the senior could chug, but he swallowed it all down in a matter of seconds.

The senior wiped at his mouth and held out the keys. “Now’s your turn.”

Steve looked around, as if checking to make sure he was talking to him and not somebody else. But Tommy was already gone looking for Carol and no one else was close by.

He took the keys.

“I’m Evan.” The senior offered.

“Steve.” Steve said, picking up another can of beer.

He pointed to where Steve should stick the key. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

“I’m a freshman.” The key impaled the can, and Steve quickly tilted the can up to his mouth, some of the cool beer dribbled down his neck and soaking into his shirt. Steve pressed his lips closer to the opening, feeling how the second hole allowed him to drink the alcohol faster than before. Making everything fuzzier much faster. Exactly what he needed. 

Steve didn’t come up for air until the can was empty. He rubbed at his mouth, looking to the senior to see if he’d done it right.

Evan was staring at him with a wide-eyed smile. “Come here!”

He grabbed Steve’s arm and dragged him to the backyard where a bunch of other letterman jackets seemed to have gathered.

Steve probably would have complained about the hand on his wrist or being dragged places he didn’t want to go. But the two beers he’d just chugged began to make him feel like it didn’t really matter. Those anxious edges didn’t feel quite so sharp.

“Robby!” Evan called out. “We’ve got a challenger!” 

Before Steve knew it, he was standing in a large circle of seniors. Hawkins’ ugly green and white sports jackets were everywhere, and he resolutely decided he’d never wear one.

Another senior, much taller than Evan was staring Steve down. “He doesn’t even look old enough to drive. Where’d you find him?”

“He’s a freshman.” Evan said.

A funny smile broke out across Robby’s face along with some of the other crowd members, and Steve was suddenly struck with the idea that he wasn’t in on the joke.

“You’re the worst Evan.” Robby said as he clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder and began pulling him deeper into the crowd.

“You ever done a keg stand before?”

Steve shook his head, eliciting more laughs from the crowd.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tommy and Carol standing next to Hannah. But they were on the outer layer of the crowd, far away from Steve.

A few seniors stepped out of the way to reveal a silver-looking keg with a nozzle attached.

“Okay so here’s the game kid. We’re going to hold you over the keg, you hold onto the handles and chug as much beer as you can, and we’re going to see if you can beat the keg stand record.”

“What’s the record?” Steve asked, taking hold of the hose and nozzle someone was shoving at him.

More laughter. Robby patted him on the back. “Don’t worry about it.”

Beneath that alcohol-infused numbness, Steve could tell they were expecting him to fail. That he’d gag and choke and make a total fool of himself.

This was a show and he was the entertainment.

That thought ignited a fire in Steve’s belly as he gripped the handles of the keg.

Hands grabbed his legs and lifted him up, causing Steve to panic for just a moment. But when he looked behind him, he spotted Evan holding one leg and Tommy on the other. 

Seeing Tommy was a relief. He’d probably worked through the crowd so he could be there for Steve.

Tommy would make sure they stopped if he thought Steve had enough.

Robby slipped the nozzle into Steve’s mouth and twisted a handle on the keg, and suddenly cool beer was flooding down Steve’s throat.

The crowd began to count.

Steve leaned his head down and closed his eyes, just focusing on swallowing down as much beer as possible. He could feel his gag reflex trying to take over, but he forced himself to stay calm.

The seniors were still counting.

It dawned on Steve that none of the hands on him, or the hot bodies surrounding the keg had really bothered him. It was such a stimulation overload he didn’t even have time to think about the memories that had resurfaced because of Mrs. Fern’s class or Hannah’s bourbon.

The numerical chanting had gotten louder around Steve. Although it could just feel that way because he was starting to feel lightheaded. It was impossible to breathe in this position.

That comforting numb feeling spread throughout Steve’s entire body. Giving him a kind of second wind. Desperately trying to chase that feeling of not feeling anything at all.

He could hear Tommy joining in the counting now, excitement clear in his voice as he rooted Steve on.

There was a pounding in his ear, and Steve distantly realized it was the blood pumping to his head. The sound drowned out the chanting.

Suddenly his legs were lowered and Steve was leaning against Tommy with Robby staring him in the face with wide eyes. People around them were jumping up and down and cheering but Steve could barely hear them. He saw Robby’s lips moving but couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“What?” Steve swayed on his feet, squinting as if that would make his hearing better.  
“I said that was thirty-four seconds!”

“Oh, was that bad? I could have gone longer.” The surrounding crowd seemed to scream and cheer louder at Steve’s response.

“No dummy!” Evan slapped him on the back, causing Steve to lurch. “The previous record was thirty seconds! You’re the new champ!”

“I’m what?” Steve leaned forward, Tommy catching his across the chest so he didn’t topple over.

“You’re the new keg king Steve!” Tommy shouted over the crowd.

Like a hive mind, the surrounding seniors starting chanting ‘King Steve’ over and over again. 

Hands were on his again, half-dragging half-carrying him back inside the house where a shot glass was pressed into Steve’s hand. Most of the clear liquid spilled out of the class before it even reached Steve’s lips, and he was quietly grateful for that.

The beer sloshed around in his stomach, not mixing so well with the overwhelming body heat surrounding him, or all the hands reaching out at him.

Steve let a few people push drinks into his hands, exchanged high-fives with Evan and a few of the other seniors who were looking forward to seeing him fail only minutes ago, but once the hum of the crowd eventually reverted to the normal party rhythm, Steve snuck outside.

He leaned against the side of the house and closed his eyes, feeling the vibrations from the music against his back.

The cool air made the sweat on his skin feel ice cold, soothing the burning ache beneath.

“Hey.”

Steve opened his eyes and turned to see Hannah close by.

“Hey.” He slurred back.

“Hell of a party.” She said, moving until she was standing next to Steve. She was still taller than him. “You made quite an impression.”

Steve shrugged noncommittally and looked down at his feet. “Just wanted some beer...” He tried to explain.

Because he hadn’t planned for the keg stand. Wouldn’t have done it if somebody asked him to. It just happened.

“You’ll probably be the talk of the school tomorrow. The freshman who beat Robby’s record. King Steve.”

Steve snorted and shook his head.

“People liked it.” Hannah pressed. “...I liked it.”

Steve tilted his head up in confusion. Hannah didn’t usually talk like this.

Come to think of it, this was probably the first time she’d talked to Steve alone without Tommy and Carol close by.

He opened his mouth to say something, but was silenced when Hannah crashed her mouth against his. Her hands were on his shoulders, running down his arms and coming up again to touch his neck. She tasted like toothpaste, cherries, and bourbon. A lot of bourbon.

Steve pulled back, eyes wide as she stumbled forward, catching herself on the side of the house.

Part of him was screaming to run. Because the last time he’d been kissed, something bad happened.

But his feet remained rooted to the ground, because it was _Hannah._

Hannah, who would buy Steve, Tommy, and Carol pizza on movie night. 

Hannah, who offered to teach them to drive once they were old enough and didn’t ignore them or treat them like children the way other kids her age did.

The same Hannah that was crying right now, slumping to the grass and rubbing at the mascara running down her face.

“I’m sorry.” Hannah whispered. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. I’m so stupid I just…”

Steve slowly stepped closer, kneeling next to her and tentatively reaching for her hand, ignoring the tremors in his own.

“It’s just ever since Tyler broke up with me, I’ve been so sad and lonely. And you’ve always been so nice and tonight I just thought...”

She pulled her hand away and met Steve’s eyes. Her mascara smudged and leaked around face, intensifying the white parts of her eyes as she stared at him in horror.

“Oh, Steve was that--? Did I just steal your first kiss?” Tears welled up in her eyes again. “Oh god I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have-- that’s supposed to be something special and I just--”

Steve felt tears prick at the corners of his own eyes.

Because no, it wasn’t. That was taken a long time ago by someone who was never sorry for stealing it. But he couldn’t tell Hannah that. 

He didn’t want anyone to know what happened to him. He didn’t want people to look at him like he was some broken thing to be pitied. 

But Steve also didn’t want to let Hannah believe she’d been the one to take that away from him.

“It… it wasn’t.” Steve whispered.

Hannah was still crying, rubbing at her face and calling herself stupid over and over again when she looked up at him. “Huh?”

“I’ve been kissed before.” Steve said, trying to meet her eye.

“Oh…” He could see some of the anxiety leave her frame. But after a moment she shook her head. “That still doesn’t make this okay.”

She pressed her hand against her forehead. “Shit, Steve you’re just a kid and I didn’t even ask I just--”

Steve felt better knowing that Hannah wasn’t mad at him for pulling away, and that she was sorry for kissing him like that. But he didn’t know what to say. He’d never been in this position before.

Tentatively reaching out, Steve rested a hand on her arm. “I forgive you Hannah.”

It sounded dumb, like he was six years old and forgiving someone for pushing him over on the playground.

But it made Hannah smile.

She wiped the remaining tears from her eyes and tilted her head to the side with a sigh.

“You’re a good kid Steve.” She said. “Don’t let anybody take that away from you. Don’t let anyone break your heart, okay?”

Steve nodded, because they were both still very drunk and he wanted to make her feel better.

“I’m tired.” She yawned and began to tilt over.

“Oh!” Steve caught her before she collapsed onto the grass. “Hannah…”

He didn’t know what he was going to say. _‘Hannah you can’t sleep here’_ was too obvious, and besides it’s not like that would have done any good.

No one else was around, so Steve tried to hoist her up to her feet at gently as possible.

All the swimming he’d been doing had left Steve with a slim muscular build that made it easier to drag Hannah over to the back entrance of the house and up the stairs to her bedroom. Fortunately he, Carol, and Tommy had been here a couple times, because that made it easier to avoid being seen by the drunk partygoers. Steve figured Hannah probably wouldn’t want people to see Steve taking her to her bedroom. And he didn’t really want that either.

Steve slid Hannah onto her bed and took off her shoes before pulling a blanket over her. She mumbled something he couldn’t understand and then snuggled into her pillow, smearing it with wet mascara.

He stared at her for a moment, wondering if there was anything he could do to make her feel better. 

A wave of gratitude washed over Steve. Which was weird because she _had_ kissed him when he didn’t want to be kissed. But she stopped, and she was sorry, and she wasn’t angry at Steve.

It made him feel a little less afraid. A little less shattered.

He didn’t know how to communicate that to her, so instead Steve locked the door on Hannah’s side and pulled it closed behind him so no one else could get in. Because he didn’t know if Hannah was afraid of the same kind of monsters that plagued Steve’s own dreams, but he wanted her to feel safe.

The party was still in full swing downstairs, and Steve didn’t feel like being surrounded by people right now, so instead he went looking for the second-floor bathroom.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one with that idea, because as soon as Steve turned the nod he was greeted with the sight of Tommy and Carol making out in the bathtub.

For a moment, Steve just stared. Because he was both very drunk and also very unsure how to politely alert his friends of his presence.

To appease both problems, Steve walked over to the sink and began drinking from the tap.

“Shit!” He heard Tommy and Carol scramble inside the porcelain tub. “Oh, hey Steve!”

Steve stood and wiped the remaining water from his mouth. “Hey.”

“How you doing buddy?” Tommy leaned back, letting Carol rest her head on his chest as the couple smiled at Steve. “That keg stand was so badass!”

“I’m drunk.” Steve complained, sitting down on the toilet seat across from his friends.

He didn’t want to tell them about Hannah kissing him, or him helping get her in bed. The world was beginning to tilt and spin and it made Steve want to lie down.

“You did drink a lot.” Carol noted absently before tilting her head towards the empty space in the tub. “Wanna join?”

Steve wasn’t able to track how he’d managed to stand and fit himself inside the bathtub next to Carol. He just blinked and suddenly it had happened.

They barely all fit. Tommy and Steve had their legs dangling out with Carol tucked between the two of them. Tommy’s arm was stretched out behind all three of them and absently playing with Steve’s hair.

“Some party, huh?” Tommy mused, twirling a strand of Steve’s hair with one hand and lacing his and Carol’s fingers together with the other.

“Not bad for freshmen.” Carol agreed with a yawn. “When are we supposed to leave?”

“I don’t know. What do you think Steve?”

Steve was only distantly aware of their conversation. He’d been trying to focus on the cool porcelain beneath them. Wondering what it was about bathtubs that made them feel so safe and comforting.

“Hmm?” Steve turned to stare at his friends. His stomach was still churning from all the beer.

Carol smiled and patted his cheek. “Maybe we should go find you some food.”

Steve could feel himself begin to gag at the mere mention of eating. But he knew putting something besides alcohol inside his stomach would help temper down the nausea that was creeping up his throat. Besides, fries sounded really good right now.

But before Steve could voice this, the sound of police sirens rose from the distance.

“Shit!” Tommy crawled out from the tub and ran to look out the small window. “I think that question about when we’re supposed to leave has just been answered.”

“Should we run?” Carol was stumbling out of the tub now too. 

Tommy shook his head. “Everyone downstairs is going to be climbing over each other to get out the door. We’d be like crabs in a bucket!”

“We could hide?” Carol’s eyes darted around the room as if some secret hideaway would appear.

“They’ll just find us eventually. We’re all screwed.” Tommy slumped against the wall.

“Not all of us have to be.” Steve found himself saying, still tucked inside the bathtub.

Tommy and Carol stared at him as the sirens grew louder. They could hear the rest of the house shouting and stumbling around downstairs.

Steve pulled himself up and pointed to the window. “Carol could fit through there.”

Tommy stared incredulously. “We’re on the second floor Steve!”

“Yeah, but we could lower her. There’s some bushes down there that’ll break her fall.” 

In any other circumstance, this would be a terrible idea. One that would never be seriously considered or mentioned out loud. But Steve was very drunk, and Tommy and Carol were intoxicated enough to peer out the open window and appraise the drop.

“I’m down.” Carol said, pulling her head back from the window. “I took gymnastics. I can take a fall.”

“This is insane.” Tommy shook his head, apparently the most sober between the three. But that wasn’t saying much.

Carol removed her shoes and chucked them out the window. “Come on Tommy! My mom’ll flip if she finds out I snuck out to this party.”

“Mine will too!” Tommy complained as Steve climbed out of the tub.

“Yeah but this is like the Titanic.” Steve cupped his hands together to give Carol a step-up to the window. “Women and children first, remember?”

Tommy tilted his head slightly downward, giving him a tired glare.

Steve didn’t know what the big deal was. He thought it was a pretty great idea. And it wasn’t like Tommy was offering any better options.

Then again, Steve was still _very_ drunk.

“Fine.” Tommy sighed and rolled up his sleeves.

It was clumsy work getting Carol out the window. Steve helped hoist her up while Tommy held her hands as she began to lean out of the house.

By the time both boys had situated themselves so they were each holding one arm and hanging Carol out the bathroom window, they could hear the cop cars pulling up to the house.

“It’s now or never.” Carol hissed, her feet dangling a few feet above the ground.

Tommy glanced at Steve. With a resolute nod, they both let go and watched Carol tumble into the evergreens beside the house.

Against all odds, she managed to tuck and roll, landing on the ground with barely a scratch.

“Holy shit!” Tommy cheered. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Carol assessed herself. “Maybe bruised a little, but I made it!”

By now other partygoers were spilling into the street and disappearing into the night.

Carol hesitated for a moment, reaching a hand up towards Steve and Tommy. “I won’t forget you!”

“Go!” Steve shouted.

Tommy leaned against Steve as they watched his girlfriend run out of sight. “Do you think she’ll wait for me while I’m in prison?”

Steve snorted and draped an arm across Tommy’s shoulders. “Of course she will bud.”

He felt like he was getting drunker somehow. He remembered hearing somewhere that that does happen when you drink too much.

Tommy giggled. “It _was_ a fun night though.”

“It was.” Steve agreed, leaning against his friend as heavily as Tommy was leaning against him. 

They watched the rest of the house guests spill from windows and doors on the first floor. Their bodies illuminated by police lights. It really did seem like the perfect ending to their first party.

“We’re still going to try and make a break for it, right?”

“Oh totally!” Tommy nodded and turned, pulling Steve with him as they stumbled out of the bathroom.

Most of the house was empty. The remaining guests were either trying to cram themselves into broom closets or drunk and passed out on the couch. Steve was tempted to join those on the couch that had accepted their fates. The cushions did look super comfy... 

“Come on!” Tommy continued to tug him through the kitchen and out the back door, snagging a bottle of vodka on the way out.

Being pulled around the house and out into the backyard was doing nothing for Steve’s vertigo.

At one point he just closed his eyes and hoped Tommy knew what he was doing. But that didn’t work out so well because he ended up running into Tommy when they suddenly halted.

“Climb!” Tommy ordered as he leapt up and began to hoist himself over the wooden fence surrounding Hannah’s house.

Steve stared at the wooden wall that seemed to go on forever. How did Tommy manage to get up there?

He reached out a hand and immediately felt everything tilt forward. The world was toppling, and this time Steve was pretty sure he was falling with it. 

He probably would have, had Tommy not reached out and grabbed his hand.

“I got you buddy!” He called as he began to hoist Steve up with him.

The fence must have been a lot shorter than Steve thought, because it didn’t feel like he was being pulled up for forever. Soon Steve found his fingers clutching the top. He began pulling himself up, squeezing his eyes shut again because everything was still spinning.

And then there was a hand on his ankle.

“Tommy?” Steve blinked in confusion just before he felt himself yanked off the fence.

The grassy lawn crashed into his back and knocked the wind out of Steve’s lungs. Or maybe he was the one to fall into it. He wasn’t sure. Right now, all he could think about was how much his head hurt.

“Off the fence. _Now_.”

Steve was just about to say that he was _already off the fence_ , but then he realized whoever was talking wasn’t addressing him.

The whole world was tilted to the side, but Steve could still make out the khaki-dressed cop pointing at his friend. Tommy was straddling the fence, staring down at the officer.

“Come down now.” The man standing over Steve ordered.

Tommy stared down at them. His eyes traveled down to where Steve was still lying on his back, clearly considering just flipping over the fence and leaving Steve to fend for himself.

But after a moment Tommy sighed. 

“Shit.” He muttered, taking a long swig from the vodka bottle before jumping down and sitting down next to Steve. “Helluva party, huh?”

Steve swallowed hard. He was going to say something, though at this point he wasn’t sure if he was going to agree or disagree. But the moment he opened his mouth he could feel bile rise up his throat. 

“Come on.” The officer hauled the two of them to their feet and half-lead-half-pushed then to the squad car out front.

Steve felt like he was walking alongside a steep hill. His feet didn't land flat and he felt like he should be leaning, but he was pretty sure no one else was leaning. 

By the time they were standing next to the squad car he was swaying on his feet.

Steve glanced at Tommy. He was smiling, so he must not feel the world tilting on its axis. Tommy didn't look like he wanted to dig his fingers into the grass and hold on for dear life.

The cop pulled out a small notepad from his front pocket and sighed. "Names?"

"Thomas Hill." Tommy said matter-of-factly.

The officer scribbled on his notepad and turned to Steve expectantly.

It felt like a switch had been flipped. The needle that broke the camel's back or whatever. Steve's body had been spinning for so long and he'd finally hit his breaking point.

Steve leaned over and threw up on the grass between his feet. And then he threw up again. It felt like his body was expelling everything inside him. All he could taste was warm beer and bile burning his throat on its way up.

He heard the cop say something, disgust clear in his tone, but Steve was too busy vomiting to make out the exact words.

By the time he was done he felt a little better. At least things had stopped spinning. Mostly.

"Thomas Hill... and friend." The cop finished writing on his notepad.

Time seemed to skip a little, because Steve didn't remember getting into the back of the police car with Tommy. He was really tired. What was it about vomiting that made you want to fall asleep? Was it just your brain's way of trying to reset? 

Steve lolled his head to the side and stared out the window, watching the colors outside change from red to blue then back to red again. His vision began to tilt, and Steve didn’t realize he was falling backwards until his head was in Tommy’s lap.

“Man down.” Tommy giggled and bounced his leg trying to get Steve to sit up again. But his lap was very comfortable. And Steve was very tired.

The cop grumbled as he climbed back into the driver’s side and slammed the door behind him.

Normally that kind of sound would bother Steve. He wouldn't flinch or freak out like he used to, but loud sudden noises still made his skin crawl.

“Typical.” The cop muttered under his breath. “I’m gone for a few years and by the time I come back the whole town’s gone to shit.”

“Hey cop buddy,” Tommy leaned forward, almost toppling Steve out of his lap before righting the two of them. “Can we stop and grab a soda or something on the way to the station? I’m thirsty.”

“I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight.” The engine keyed to life as the cop turned back to stare at Tommy. Steve couldn’t really make out his face from his spot. “And it’s not ‘cop,’ okay? I’m the Chief of Police.”

Tommy blew a raspberry. “Since when? What happened to Wilson?”

“He retired dipshit. I’m Chief Hopper.” 

Steve regretted how quickly he sat up. His stomach churned, but the only thing Steve could think about was that name.

“Jim Hopper?” He stared at the back of the sheriff’s head. He was still wearing the same hat.

“Yeah, what’s it to you?” The man glanced over his shoulder as he began pulling out of the neighborhood.

Their eyes met briefly. Yes, it was Hopper. The same man that made all those promises when Steve was nine. Promises that he never kept. 

Steve was expecting some kind of recognition to cross Hopper's eyes, but all Steve saw was annoyance and disgust.

Nausea was replaced with a burning anger in the pit of Steve's stomach.

How could this man just continue to live his life, come back to Hawkins, and act like nothing happened? 

Had he even thought about Steve since he walked out of the hospital? Or did he immediately forget that scared broken little kid he promised to protect?

Steve couldn't breathe. He felt like if he did, he'd just start screaming. He wasn't thinking about anything beyond the betrayal piercing his gut.

"Got something to say, kid?" 

Later, Steve would credit his actions to a fit of alcohol infused rage. That, or it was him just being dumb again.

Steve spit at the Chief of Police. Saliva spraying his in the face.

Hopper was shouting, Tommy was laughing, but Steve wasn't paying attention to either of them. He just slumped back in his seat, enjoying the little satisfaction he could feel through the alcohol induced haze that was still clouding his brain.

It still didn't erase the hurt that bloomed in his chest.

* * *

Steve found himself leaning against Tommy’s sleeping form, counting the bricks in the walls of Hawkins' drunk tank.

But since there were only two brick walls, with the other two being metal bars, it didn’t take too long.

Sighing, he glanced around the room, looking for something else to distract him from the mind-numbingly slow progression of time. But there wasn’t much.

Steve’s eyes trailed to the other inhabitants of the large cell. Most of them were the town drunks just sleeping off whatever drug or drink landed them here. But there was one other person besides Steve that was still awake.

A large bald man was sitting in the corner with his arms crossed and denim-clad legs spread like he was riding a motorcycle. The denim vest he was wearing showed off big muscular arms almost completely covered in tattoos. He didn’t look familiar. Between that and the black eye he was sporting, Steve figured he was just someone passing through Hawkins who got a little too rowdy at the local bar.

And he’d been watching Steve the entire night.

Steve had ignored the man’s stare when they first got there, figuring it was some kind of intimidation tactic. Hopper had dumped them in here to teach them a lesson, and Steve wasn’t about to give him or Baldy over there the satisfaction of showing how nervous he was. 

Instead Steve opted to sit close to Tommy and count bricks.

But now, with nothing better to do, Steve found himself meeting Baldy’s gaze. And it wasn’t until now that Steve began to realize the other man wasn’t just looking to scare a couple teens.

Steve recognized the predatory hunger flitting behind Baldy’s eyes. The way he licked his lips and opened his legs just a little wider after he caught Steve staring.

At first Steve felt his stomach twist into knots. The same nausea and gross feeling crawling up his spine that he’d felt in the classroom as Mrs. Fern clicked through the presentation slides.

He wanted to run the same way he did then. But he was trapped here, and Steve had a feeling that nothing would happen if he ran to the cell doors and screamed for Hopper to let him out. He’d probably show up, tell Steve to sit back down and suck it up, and then go back to his office. It’s not like anything was actually happening anyway.

But then Steve was struck by an odd thought.

Nothing bad _could_ happen here.

If Baldy did try anything, either he’d scream and Hopper would come running, or Tommy would wake up and beat the shit out of Baldy until Hopper intervened. There was no way Steve could get hurt in this scenario.

An odd sense of security washed over Steve. He wondered if this was how Carol felt, knowing she could do anything, and Tommy would be there to save her.

Experimentally, Steve stretched out a little on the bench, still staying close enough to Tommy to feel safe, but far enough that he didn’t wake his friend.

His legs stretched open, casual-like, but positioned in such a way that it would be easy to imagine someone slipping between them.

Baldy was watching every move like it was some kind of magic show.

Steve innocently licked his lips and watched how Baldy leaned forward slightly and stared at Steve’s mouth, probably imagining what else it could be used for.

He was a captive audience, completely at Steve’s mercy.

And it felt… good.

Steve’s hands stretched upwards in a pretend yawn, exposing his midriff just for a moment before letting his hands lazily trail down his body and resting them near his upper thighs.

Baldy’s hands drifted closer to his own crotch, close to the zipper like he was seriously considering touching himself right in the middle of this jail cell.

Steve met his eyes again, letting them rest half-hooded the way girls in magazines do, his lips parted just slightly. Enough to tease. Not enough to suggested he was interested in starting a conversation. 

This was a show, not an invitation. Look, but don’t touch.

He wondered just how much he could get away with.

But before Steve could answer that question, the sound of footsteps echoing off the old cinder block walls caused both men to halt their little silent exchange.

“Alright kids, your ride’s here.” Hopper sighed as he appeared and unlocked the cell door.

“Huh?” Tommy slurred, starting up from where he was slumped against the wall. “What happened?”

“We get to go home.” Steve supplied, helping Tommy up and guiding him out of the cell.

He purposefully made sure he was the last one out, offering one final glance at Baldy. The biker was still staring, watching them leave. And maybe Steve let his hips sway just a little more than usual as he walked away, giving his impromptu audience one final show before he left.

“Why did they decide to let us go early?” Tommy asked, rubbing at his eyes as Hopper marched them to the front office.

Steve shrugged as he fell in step with his friend. Tommy’s question was answered when they rounded the corner to see Carol standing somewhat guiltily next to Steve’s dad.

“They wouldn’t let you guys out without an adult present.” She said, looking down at her feet.

Steve could hear the silent apology in her voice. He knew if there were any other option Carol would have taken it. But both her parents worked, and since Tommy’s dad was out of the picture and his mom also worked, that just left Steve.

“Car.” His dad said. “Now.”

Steve felt himself wanting to shrink under his father’s gaze, but he didn’t want to give him the pleasure. He was tired of adults feeling like they had any kind effect on him.

He stood a little straighter and looked between Tommy and Carol. “You gonna be okay?”

At their nods, Steve gave Hopper one final glance. The police chief was watching everything with barely any interest.

Maybe Steve had misremembered that night. It was so long ago, and he’d been through a traumatic event. Maybe he only saw the care and concern in Hopper’s face because he wanted to see it. Maybe that brave protective sheriff Steve remembered never existed.

Steve turned back to his father and followed him out the door.

They didn’t say anything on the drive home. His dad didn’t have to. Steve could feel the disappointment coming off him in waves. He knew what his father was thinking.

The first week of his freshman year and Steve was already getting into trouble. Continuing his habit of being one major disappointment after another. What would the neighbors think… yada yada yada.

His parents only saw what they wanted to see and just ignored the rest. They didn’t care why he’d decided to go to a party with a bunch of seniors, drink way too much, and pick a fight with a cop. 

They didn’t ask themselves if maybe he was lashing out for a reason. That maybe he was trying to deal with something in the only way he knew how. The way they taught him: repression and self-medication.

"When we get home, you're going to apologize. Then your mother and I will talk about your punishment."

It sounded like a line from a movie. Something dads were supposed to say when their kids got in trouble like, 'No TV for a week young man,' or 'you just lost your car privileges.'

Lines Steve's father recited because he couldn't be bothered to think of something original to say to his own son.

Steve didn’t have a car yet, and this would probably slow that process down for a while, but he didn’t care. He learned something tonight.

For the first time in a long time, Steve felt powerful. Completely in control of what he was doing, and what someone else could do to him.

And no one was going to take that away from him. Not his dad, not Hopper, not Kline.

No one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear your thoughts of this story so far!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve thought he was getting better. He thought he was beginning to move past his trauma. But unfortunately the journey to forgetting your past is not a linear one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments and patience with this update! I had some work responsibilities and other writing projects getting in my way, and to be honest the changing seasons has really been messing with my depression. But Yay!! This is finally finished! We're going to be wrapping up Steve's freshman year in this update and running into a couple familiar faces along the way.  
> Let me know what you guys think!

Ever since Hannah's party, Steve paid more attention at school. Not to the teachers or homework, but to his classmates.

He noticed which girls stared at him during class, or lingered by his locker at the end of the day, or found reasons to touch and brush up against him.

He'd been too much in his own head before, but now he saw it for what it was:

Interest.

Steve noticed some boys at school who were interested too. Ones who watched him a little too closely during gym.

Evan was one of those boys. And suddenly his friendly shoves and pats on the back meant something else entirely.

Steve didn't mind the looks Evan gave him when he thought no one was paying attention.

Those kinds of stares would have made him feel sick before, regardless of who they came from.

But now, they seemed to offer promise. He just had to figure out how to safely turn stares into something more.

"Hey Steve." One of his classmates greeted him as he sat down. He was pretty sure her name was Laurie.

“Hey.” He responded, pulling out his math textbook.

Laurie sat down next to him, effectively taking Tommy’s seat. Steve was about to protest, because Tommy was a lot better at math and he needed the extra help, when said boy walked into class.

Tommy paused near the front and stared in confusion before he realized that a _girl_ was sitting next to Steve. A grin spread across his face and he gave Steve a completely unsubtle thumbs-up before heading to the back of the class, most definitely so he could watch what happens.

Laurie reached out a hand and rested it on top of Steve's arm to get his attention. “So I heard you beat Robby’s keg stand record.”

“Uh, yeah.” Steve said, looking at her hand.

“Quiet please.” Their professor called from the front and began scribbling equations on the chalkboard. 

He and Laurie both turned to the front of the class, but her arm stayed on his. Steve’s eyes dropped down to her hand again. He could see calluses beneath a light peppering of freckles. He wondered if maybe she played an instrument or something.

Steve swallowed hard before casually resting his hand on hers. “Hey, maybe next time there’s a party we could hang out or something.”

Laurie whipped her head back and stared at their hands. There was a light blush on her cheeks. She looked up and smiled at him. “Yeah,” She whispered. “That’d be cool.”

She squeezed his hand beneath hers. “Or maybe something sooner?”

"Like a movie or something?"

Laurie gave an amused smile. "I was thinking sooner. Wanna have lunch together?"

“Uh,” Steve glanced back at Tommy.

There was no way his friend could have heard any of that, but Tommy was still giving him a very enthusiastic thumbs up.

“Sure.” Steve said, turning his attention back to Laurie. “Where were you thinking?”

She glanced over at the teacher to make sure they hadn’t been noticed before whispering. “Meet me in the parking lot.”

* * *

“So she just _invited_ you to meetup in the parking lot?” Tommy whispered excitedly as they left class.

“She just wants to have lunch.” Steve rolled his eyes, letting Tommy forge a path through the crowded hall.

He felt a playful elbow in his side. “But did she mention you were the main course?” 

“Shut up.” Steve felt his ears begin to burn.

“I’m serious dude. Laurie’s a player. That’s what Carol said. All these senior girls are hungry for some fresh meat, and it looks like you’re on the menu.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” Steve stood by Tommy’s locker as his friend deposited his books. He didn’t necessarily _hate_ the idea of a girl being interested in him. It just was this big unknown, and Steve hated the idea of facing it on his own. 

“You meet her in the parking lot.” Tommy closed his locker and stared at Steve like he was crazy. “Duh.”

Steve swallowed nervously. “But, what am I supposed to _do_?”

The smirk on Tommy’s face was not exactly reassuring. “Something tells me she’s the one with the plans. Just… go with the flow.”

And with that, he was gone.

Steve stared blankly at the space his friend had just vacated. 

_Go with the flow_?

What kind of bullshit advice was that? How about, ‘ _Hey buddy, I’m sure this is new and scary for you, how about we talk through all of it so you feel more at ease when you meet up with Laurie for whatever she has planned_ ’?

That would have been helpful.

Instead Steve was left with a growing nervousness with each passing class until lunch period arrived and he found himself drifting out to the parking lot.

Laurie's car was warm, and Steve could already feel his muscles begin to relax as the heat thawed out his body.

"You're a freshman, right? That's why I haven't seen you around before." Laurie said, sitting beside him in the backseat.

Steve nodded, feeling her warm body press into his side.

"So what do you think?" She said in a lower tone.

"Think of what?" Steve asked, looking down at her hand as it rested on his thigh. He was beginning to think maybe Tommy _was_ right.

"High school." Laurie smiled. 

"Oh!" Steve let out a nervous laugh. “It’s okay.”

“Any girls caught your eye yet?” Her arm snaked across his chest, pulling them closer.

Steve felt a blush rise up his neck and into his cheeks. He couldn’t tell if this was some kind of trick or not. 

“I mean, you’re cute.” It came out like both an observation and a question. Was that what she wanted to hear? Would she have been upset if he’s mentioned any other girls? 

Laurie _was_ pretty. Her hair kind of smelled like strawberries.

She laughed. “What about Hannah?”

“Hannah?” Steve frowned in confusion. Did she and Hannah know each other? Had Hannah told her about the party?

“She’s cool,” He said. “But she’s like an older sister. She used to drive me and my friends around and stuff when we were younger.” 

A strange smile crossed Laurie’s face. Like Steve had passed some kind of test. “She said you were cool too.”

It felt like there was more to what she was saying. After a moment, Laurie leaned in closer. 

At first Steve thought she was going to add something. It actually wasn’t until her lips were pressed against his that he realized he was being kissed.

Steve froze. That bad static feeling was creeping under his skin again.

Laurie pulled away. “Are you okay?”

“Um,” Steve licked his lips, tasting her fruity lip gloss as he glanced around the car. 

For some reason, his eyes settled on the door handle behind Laurie. The car was unlocked. He could leave whenever he wanted to. He could run back to the school where there were plenty of people. He could run home where he knew the lock on his bedroom door worked. He could just run.

But just the thought alone, that he could get away if he really wanted to, calmed Steve down. He wasn’t scared of Laurie. He wasn’t trapped here. He could decide.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Steve turned back to Laurie. “You just kind of surprised me.”

She smiled again. “Do you not have a lot of experience with this kind of stuff?”

Steve thought back to kissing Hannah. He could feel his memory beginning to stray further back, but he quickly shut that out.

“No, not really.” Steve shook his head. He didn’t want to lie, but he still felt a little embarrassed at admitting it. Which was dumb, because most kids his age didn’t have a lot of experience. _That_ was normal. And if Steve could convince someone that he fit into that normal, undamaged category then all the better.

“Well,” Laurie kissed the side of Steve’s face again. “Aren’t I special?”

She kissed his cheek again, slowly leaving a trail until she met his lips again. And this time Steve did kiss back. He was a little clumsy, and Laurie helped guide him a little, but he liked it. Her lips were soft, and she didn’t kiss like she was taking something. 

Steve hummed in pleasure as her hands moved into his hair.

Eventually, Laurie broke off the kiss to catch her breath.

“How inexperienced are you?”

“Uh,” Steve blinked, trying to think if there was a middle ground between the truth and an outright lie. But his head was feeling warm and fuzzy, this time in a really good way, and he wasn’t in the headspace to find somewhere in the middle. “None really.”

There was a stray golden curl that hung in Laurie’s face, dangling between her pretty green eyes that had an excited spark to them now.

“So, no one’s done... this?” She asked, her hands sliding down to his crotch, toying with his zipper.

Steve’s breath hitched as he watched her slowly unzip his pants and begin to palm him through his boxers.

“Has anyone ever done this, Steve?”

The truth was, he didn’t remember. He didn’t remember a lot of that day. One part of Steve preferred it that way. He didn’t want to remember all the awful details. But a smaller, more complicated side of him, wanted to know. Just so he knew exactly all the firsts that had been stolen from him.

“No.” Steve whispered. Because that was the easiest answer. The kind of answers normal teens gave. And he so so badly wanted to be normal.

Laurie smiled, her hands deftly releasing him from his boxers.

And then suddenly he couldn’t tell whether she was smiling or not, because Laurie had dipped her head into his lap and began running her tongue along his dick until the whole thing was in her mouth.

Steve gasped and rolled his head back in surprise and pleasure.

He’d never felt anything like this before.

Laurie was moving, bobbing her head up and down and letting out these noises…

He didn’t know what to do with his hands. Which was a dumb thing to worry about, because right now Steve was having the first and best blowjob of his life, but the thought wouldn’t go away.

Instinctively, he wanted to put them on the back of Laurie’s head, urging her on. But he didn’t know if that was okay, and he didn’t really want to stop her so he could ask.

Leaving them by his sides didn’t feel right either, because Laurie might think he was being too casual or wasn’t enjoying himself. And he _was_.

Instead, Steve settled for a middle ground.

He brought his hands up to her head and began gently running them through her hair and tracing the back of her neck. Not pulling or pushing, just trying to make her feel good in some way too.

It wasn’t long before Steve felt his hips buck of their own doing, and he came whimpering and gasping into Laurie’s mouth. 

He was expecting her to spit it out, because it probably didn’t taste good. So Steve was surprised when Laurie swallowed it like it was nothing.

She sat up and wiped her mouth. “So, what did you think?”

Steve was both still in shock from it all, and basking in the afterglow of the whole experience.

“It… uh, it was really nice.” He didn’t know what guys were supposed to say about stuff like this. He should probably ask Tommy about it later. “Thank you.”

Laurie gave an amused smile. “Don’t mention it.”

Then she opened the car door on her side. “I’ve gotta go to class, but feel free to stay here as long as you need.”

Steve blinked. Was she leaving?

“Uh, don’t you want me to…” He gestured to her. He knew for a fact that he didn’t have any experience with girls, but he was still willing to try.

That same strange smile crossed her face again as she climbed out of the backseat. “It’s okay.” But she paused for a moment before closing the door. “Thanks for taking care of Hannah after she got drunk.”

And with that, she was gone. And Steve was left in the back of her car.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that Steve even thought to pull himself back together.

Quickly zipping himself up again, Steve climbed out of Laurie’s car, feeling both more alive and more tired than he’d felt earlier.

Her leaving the way she did was a little confusing. But he wasn’t sure what else he was expecting. Or wanting for that matter. 

What he did know, was that he felt amazing. Like he was seen and wanted in the good kind of way. In a way that didn’t make him feel powerless. He could have stopped what they were doing any left whenever he wanted. And he _chose_ to keep going. It was liberating. Like he got a little piece of himself back.

Steve wondered if that was how everyone felt, or if it was just like that for Steve because of what happened to him. It’s not like he could really ask anyone.

“You lost or something?” A voice called out.

Steve turned almost in a full circle until he spotted the speaker. 

The girl who had talked to him was tall with a sturdy frame and hair so red it was almost orange. She was giving him a knowing stare, her eyes somewhat hidden behind thick glasses.

“Uh…” Steve looked around. He’d been walking in a daze. Apparently so much so, he hadn’t even realized he had wandered into the library.

The redhead puffed out an amused sigh and readjusted the books in her arms. “Where are you trying to go, loverboy?”

 _Loverboy?_ Steve blinked, coming back down from his high a little more. He looked down at himself. His clothes were rumpled and clearly had been recently displaced. That, along with his now-messy hair and the dazed look in his eye, probably painted an easy picture.

He licked his lips, noticing they were still tingling and a little swollen from Laurie’s attention. “I was looking for the cafeteria?”

“Uh huh, probably need to rehydrate yourself.”

Steve didn’t know why she thought that, but come to think of it, he was a little thirsty.

“Do you remember where the cafeteria is now?” She asked.

“Yeah.” Steve answered, feeling a little like he was having a conversation with a very matronly librarian instead of the freshman standing before him. “What’s your name?”

He didn’t know why it was important, he just felt like he should probably know something about the woman who knew something very private about him.

“I’m Barb.” She adjusted her glasses. “And you’re Steve.”

“How did you-”

“-Everyone’s been talking about the freshman who beat Robby’s keg stand record. It looks like you’re handling the new popularity well.” Barb gave him another look and returned to whatever she was doing before Steve interrupted.

“Oh.” Steve was too distracted with what Barb said to acknowledge the judgmental tone.

He wasn’t popular, was he?

It was one keg stand. There was no way that many people knew about it. 

Steve stood there for a moment before turning and heading off to the cafeteria, making a quick stop at the bathroom so he could put himself back together in the mirror. He didn’t need the whole school connecting the same dots as Barb had.

Lunch period was almost over by the time Steve sat down at Tommy and Carol’s table.

The couple’s conversation ended the second he sat down. They were both staring expectantly.

Steve looked between the two. “What?”

“So how was it?” Carol asked.

He stared incredulously at Tommy. “You told her?”

“Obviously. It was like the first thing I did, I tell her everything.”

Steve hid his face against his arms on top of the table.

“Oooh! He’s blushing.” Carol teased, poking at his red ears.

“Guys…” Steve whined feebly.

“Come on, you can tell us.” Tommy nudged his arm. “It won’t be anything we haven’t heard before.”

“ _Hopefully_.” Carol added. “She didn’t do anything crazy right? Not for your first time.”

Steve eventually raised his head and rubbed at his face, hoping it would help with the blush. “What counts for a first time?”

“What?” Tommy laughed. “Like you know what sex _is_ , right Steve? Should we have drawn you some pictures?”

“No,” Steve rolled his eyes. “I know what sex it. I mean, how far do you have to go for it to be considered your first time?”

“I’d say third base and beyond.” Carol cocked her head to the side. “What base did you get to?”

Steve squinted for a moment. He was very close to asking, ‘ _blowjobs are third base, right?_ ’ when a thought struck him.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell Tommy and Carol.

It felt kind of wrong to be talking about what he did with Laurie while she wasn’t here. Like he was breaking her trust or something.

His gut twisted at the thought of anyone finding out about what Kline did to him.

Instead of answering, Steve gave a non-committal shrug.

Tommy looked confused. “What? You don’t know?”

“We didn’t have sex.” Steve said.

“But you did do something, right?”

Steve shrugged.

Tommy groaned and leaned back. “This isn’t supposed to be a guessing game. Come on, what happened?”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “I just feel weird talking about it without her permission.”

“Her permission?” Tommy repeated. “Steve. Buddy. It’s Laurie. I’m a freshman and even I know about most of her little sexcapades.”

“I think he’s got a point.” Carol elbowed Tommy. “You wouldn’t want other people walking around spilling secrets about my sexlife, right?”

“Because _you’re_ the one already doing all the spilling.” Tommy responded.

“That’s right.” Carol nodded. “Because it’s my decision. And if Steve doesn’t want to talk about his sexlife then that’s his choice and you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

Carol took a bite out of her apple and chewed a moment before adding, “Unless of course, nothing happened and Steve’s just too embarrassed to admit it.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but he knew a good-natured joke when he heard one. Carol was just trying to lighten things up.

“Ooh, that could be it!” Tommy laughed. “What happened Steve? Was Laurie disappointed with what she found?”

Steve snatched a fry from Tommy’s plate and raised an eyebrow. “Tommy, you’ve seen my dick in the gym showers. You know that’s not possible.”

Tommy leaned closer to Carol. “It _is_ a really nice dick.”

“Will I ever get to see this really nice dick, Steve?” Carol batted her eyelashes.

Tommy wrapped a possessive arm around her shoulders. “Only in your dreams.”

“Too scared she’ll leave you for me?” Steve grinned.

Tommy threw another french fry at Steve, laughing when it got stuck in his hair. Their table descended into that familiar, comfortable chaos that they usually found together.

Later that night, Steve found himself lying awake in bed replaying what had happened between him and Laurie. He wondered how it would have felt if it really was his first time. If it would have been different in any way.

He wished that could have been his first time. He wished when people asked when his first time was, he could have said high school.

But then again, who’s to say it he hadn’t?

Steve took a deep breath, imagining that universe where he didn’t feel like he had to lock his door. Where monsters belonged under beds and not towering over them. Where he didn’t always have the urge to run away from something.

“My name is Steve Harrington.” He whispered to himself, “And I lost my virginity to Laurie when I was fifteen in the back of a warm car.”

* * *

“Hey guys!” Evan knocked on their lunch table. “Freshman year still lame?”

“Unbearably so.” Carol sighed.

Steve couldn’t help but agree. It felt like they started on a high note with Hannah’s party. After that, they were buried up to their necks in homework.

“Yeah well, don’t sweat it too hard, it’s almost over.”

“Easy for you to say.” Tommy said. “You’re almost done with this place for good.”

Evan smiled at that, looking genuinely excited at the thought. Word around school was he got a full-ride athletics scholarship to some fancy college in California.

“You’ll get there eventually.” Evan shrugged before leaning in and adding, “Some of us are heading up to the quarry tonight to kick off Spring Break. Wanna join?” 

“Sounds fun,” Carol reached for Tommy’s hand and winked. “But we’ve already got plans.”

She didn’t say their plans were actually driving up to visit Tommy’s grandma. Because it didn’t sound very cool to say that, while everyone else was going to be drowning in beer and parties, she and Tommy were going to be drowning in tea and doilies.

“Nice.” Evan winked back before turning his attention to Steve. “How about you, King? There won’t be any kegs, but it should still be fun.”

“I’ll think about it.” Steve smiled. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Rock quarry. Ten o’clock.” Evan repeated before continuing on his way to the Seniors table.

It was going to be a little weird not having Evan, Robby, and Hannah around next year.

“Are you actually thinking of going?” Tommy asked, drawing Steve’s attention back to their own table.

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Steve fiddled with his food. “Any reason why I shouldn’t?”

Tommy shrugged. “Evan’ll be there.”

“Yeah, he just invited us.” She frowned in confusion and looked to Carol. “Do we have a problem with Evan now?”

“He’s just weird around you.” Tommy answered. “He stares at you when he talks.”

“That’s what you’re supposed to do when you talk to someone.” Steve rolled his eyes, pretending not to know what Tommy was talking about.

He’d noticed Evan’s stares pretty early on. And he was pretty sure Evan had noticed Steve’s stares too. Steve kept waiting for him to make a move, or at the very least to say something, but it never happened. Which was understandable considering Evan couldn’t just ask Steve out in front of everyone. They couldn’t go on a date to the movies like Tommy and Carol. It would have to be subtle, like hanging out at a Spring Break party.

“You can always come with us if you want.” Carol offered, always the peacekeeper. 

“Nah,” Steve shook his head and looked back to his food. “I’ll probably just stay home, pass out, and enjoy the fact that I don’t have school on Monday.”

“We can always hang out once we get back.” Carol added.

“Exactly.” Steve turned to Tommy. “Who needs late night quarry parties when you have a heated pool?”

Tommy still didn’t look totally convinced. Probably because he grew up with Steve and could tell when he wasn’t being completely honest.

“Whatever.” Tommy shook his head. “Just don’t get yourself into too much trouble, alright?”

“Yes dad.” Steve rolled his eyes. But he secretly didn’t mind. He knew Tommy always got a little nervous when he couldn’t be around to keep an eye on either him or Carol.

He cared, and Steve appreciated that. But Tommy had nothing to worry about. It was just a small party amongst friends. Steve was going to be just fine.

* * *

Steve stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked up the quarry. He forgot his jacket, but it didn’t make sense to go back home for one now.

The gravel crunched under his feet as he cleared the last slope, finally catching sight of the rest of the group.

“Hey, you made it!” Robby cheered from the small campfire they started. His arm was slung over Laurie’s shoulders.

She and Steve shared a quick smile and knowing nod before he looked at the other people present. He didn’t recognize most of them apart from Evan.

“Hey,” Another senior walked up and held out his hands. “You’re the kid that beat Robby’s record, right?”

“Yeah, I’m Steve.” Steve said, shaking the other boy’s hand.

It was still a little weird that some kids at school knew of him before they actually met him.

“Nick.” The senior answers. “So do you just drink, or do you do other kinds of stuff...?”

“What kinds of stuff?” Steve glanced at Evan. The senior was watching the scene with thinly veiled amusement.

“I mean…” Nick reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a plastic bag. “Are you down to have a little fun?”

Steve stared at the bag full of rolled up blunts.

“Aren’t you worried about getting caught?” One of the other girls asked.

Nick blew a raspberry. “What are they gonna do? Expel us? We’re outta here in a couple weeks.”

“Steve isn’t.” Evan pointed out.

“Well, we’ll just be very careful then.” Nick added. “Whatdya say Steve?”

Steve had gotten high with Tommy before. But that was once, when they were alone in Steve’s bedroom. Not in the middle of nowhere surrounded by mostly strangers.

But Steve also didn’t want to start the night off on the wrong foot.

“Why not?” He smiled, earning an approving nudge from Robby.

The moonlight reflected off the grey rocks beneath their feet as they all shuffled closer to the fire for warmth. Once they’d settled in and introduced themselves, Evan approached Steve.

“Sorry your friends couldn’t make it.” He said, sitting next to Steve as they joined the other teens in a circle around the fire.

“It’s okay.” Steve shrugged. “Thanks for the invite.”

Evan stared at him a moment longer before turning back to the group and joining in on a conversation. Nick started passing around a lit blunt.

“So Steve, any thoughts about what you want to do after high school?” Laurie asked.

Steve picked up a stick and poked at the fire. “Not really. I want to try and get on the basketball team next year.”

“Well the good news is there’ll be some spots opening up after we graduate.” Evan smiled.

“Are you guys going to miss this place?” Steve asked, looking at all the people who were moving on with their lives. Wondering what it would feel like to leave Hawkins and all its memories behind.

“Hell no!” Robby cheered, taking the blunt from Laurie. “This place is a dump. I’m never coming back.”

Steve turned to Evan, looking for the same condemnation. The other boy nodded and shrugged. 

“It’s a small town. California’s got more. You can be whatever you want to be out there.” He bumped shoulders with Steve before taking the blunt from Robby. “I am going to miss some things though.”

Steve felt his cheeks flush. If anyone noticed, he would have blamed it on the fire.

Did Evan mean he’d miss Steve? Was that what he was trying to say?

Evan offered the blunt to him. As Steve reached for it, the other boy’s fingers lingered just for a moment. Steve looked up into his face, and Evan’s lips puckered slightly as he blew smoke into Steve’s face. It surrounded him, making him feel light and relaxed before he even took a drag.

Steve brought the blunt to his lips, not breaking eye contact with Evan as he inhaled. He watched how Evan’s eyes traveled down to his lips.

“Anyone want a beer?” Robby called out, holding a few bottles in between his fingers. 

Evan eventually turned away from Steve to take a bottle. But his attention never drifted for too long.

The rest of the night went like that. Smoking and drinking while all the seniors talked about their big plans for the future. 

Steve lost track of the time. Weed and alcohol will do that to you. But the next thing he knew, everyone was either sleeping or snuggled together around the fire.

He thought he was the only one still awake until he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Hey.” Evan said, standing next to Steve. “You’ve been staring at that fire for a while.”

“It’s pretty.” Steve found himself mumbling. “It’s never the same thing twice.”

“Huh?” Evan asked, not following Steve’s marijuana induced revelries.

“I really like the stars.” Steve said instead, rolling his head back and staring at the shining pinpricks of light above them.

“You could probably see them better away from the fire.” Evan remarked. “Wanna go for a walk?”

A distantly sober part of Steve’s brain was telling him that this was his chance. But for the life of him Steve couldn’t figure out what it was referring to.

“Sure.” He said instead, climbing to his feet and following Evan into the surrounding woods.

“So what’s so great about California anyway?” Steve asked, bumping into the older teen when he stopped.

Evan was watching Steve with a funny smile. “There are more people out there. More stuff to do without small town people breathing down your neck.”

“Mmm,” Steve hummed. “That does sound kind of nice.”

“You should go!” Evan stepped closer. “Once you graduate. Move to California. Actually start to _live_.”

“You could show me around.” Steve offered, feeling Evan’s body heat radiating off his skin, making him want to step a little closer. “Maybe show me the ropes?”

Evan grinned. “Come here.” He reached out and clumsily grabbed at Steve.

Before he knew it, Steve was wrapped in the older boy’s arms. Slowly, his hands slid down and began groping Steve’s ass through his jeans, growing more confident and urgent when Steve didn’t pull away.

Steve could feel him breathing heavily into his hair, but aside from that and the hands, it didn’t seem like Evan was taking it any further.

Maybe he was waiting for Steve to initiate something?

Steve thought back to Laurie’s kiss. That made him feel better. And kissing had been fun. Maybe that’s what Evan wanted?

Steve tipped his head upwards so he could see Evan’s face. His eyes were kind of foggy, like he was trying to figure something out. Evan’s lips parted, a breath that smelled faintly of beer and weed blew into his face. Steve closed his eyes and leaned forward, imagining what kind of kisser Evan was.

And then there were hands on his shoulders, holding him in place.

Steve reopened his eyes and stared at Evan in confusion. 

Did he not want to be kissed? Had Steve completely misinterpreted this whole thing?

But then, the hands were pushing him down. Not away. Not closer. Just, down.

Steve was too confused to try and resist. It wasn’t until he felt the pebbled dirt beneath his knees that things clicked.

Oh.

Evan was still staring at him. That same distant look in his eye.

Steve slowly turned his stare to the zipper that was now at eye level.

He could do this.

It was just a blowjob. Thanks to Laurie he knew the basics.

And if this is what Evan really wanted right now, then that was okay.

Steve pulled at the zipper, watching as it revealed Evan’s dick pressing against his underwear.

He reached out, touching his hand against the member. It felt weird and foreign, and Steve wasn’t sure how he was supposed to be touching it, if it was supposed to be just with his palm, or if he should try and grip it through the material.

“Come on.” Evan whispered. His voice sounded more hoarse than it usually did.

Steve decided to skip trying to touch it through Evan’s underwear and instead just pulled the material down and away. His penis sprang loose, almost hitting Steve in the face because of how close he was. 

Steve nervously reached out and gripped the base of the shaft. He could hear Evan gasp above him. That had to be good, right?

Slowly, he began to try and pump his hand up and down, like Laurie had done. But the skin was too dry and there was too much traction.

That’s probably why Laurie had started out with licking it, Steve distantly thought.

He glanced back up at Evan, but the other boy’s head was rolled back and facing upwards. Just like Steve had done in the backseat of Laurie’s car.

He could do this. He could do this. He liked Evan. Evan was cool and friendly and cute. It was okay that he didn’t want to kiss Steve first. They could always do that later. Just so long as Steve did this first.

Taking a deep breath, Steve’s tongue darted out and brushed against Evan’s dick. He felt it twitch under his touch, and Evan let out this pleased noise, so Steve was probably off to a good start.

He let his tongue run up and down the shaft, feeling his own saliva lubricate the skin so his hand could begin moving again. As the pumping motion got easier, Steve focused more attention on the tip of Evan’s cock. He ran his tongue over the head before sliding it into his mouth and sucking. It didn’t taste great, but Laurie hadn’t complained about Steve’s, so he wasn’t going to complain about Evan’s.

As Steve tried to match his sucking with the rhythm his hand found, he felt Evan’s fingers begin to run through his hair. For a moment he thought of how he’d done the same thing for Laurie, and was happy that his instincts had been right.

But then Evan’s hands tightened their hold, turning to fists in Steve’s hair and using his grip to pull Steve’s face closer to his crotch, forcing his cock deeper down his throat.

Steve gagged, both is shock and in pain, but somehow managed to keep his mouth wide open. He didn’t want to accidentally bite Evan.

The other boy didn’t pause at the choking sound. He just kept thrusting, his hips pumping at a merciless pace.

Maybe he was in a hurry or something. Or maybe this was just how he liked it.

Steve felt tears begin to trail down the sides of his face, and he wasn’t sure which pain he was crying over. He kept waiting for this throat to adjust and get used to the feeling of Evan sliding down his throat, but every time the cock withdrew, Steve’s throat contracted only to be forced open again.

And through it all the only frustratingly dumb thing Steve’s fucked up mind could think about was that he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

After what felt like forever, Evan began making these gasping noises, and then he yanked on Steve’s hair so hard Steve was scared Evan was going to tear it out as he buried his cock as deep into Steve’s throat as he could go.

Then he began to pull out, leaving a trail of warm salty liquid on Steve’s tongue. 

Steve swallowed it, because that’s what Laurie did, and he didn’t want Evan to think he was being rude.

His throat felt torn apart, and Steve found himself coughing and gasping for breath at the same time as he collapsed onto his hands and knees. 

He almost missed the sound of Evan zipping himself back up and mumbling a ‘thanks.’

“Don’t—” Steve coughed. “Don’t mention it.”

But when he looked up, Evan was gone.

Steve looked around, still coughing, but the other teen was nowhere to be found.

He kept his eyes open, scanning the tree line as he tried to catch his breath. Because Steve was suddenly very aware of how cold and alone he was. The surrounding shadows and dark shapes moved around him. And rationally, Steve knew it was just the wind, but it made the panic rise up in his throat again.

He didn’t like the thought that anyone, or anything could be out there. He had to get back to camp.

Scrambling to his feet, Steve wrapped his arms around himself and began walking in the vague direction he thought he and Evan had come from.

Thankfully his instincts were right, and the warm comforting campfire they’d started early came into view.

Everyone was still sleeping around the fire, including Evan now. Maybe he’d just been really tired?

Steve stared down at the older teen, anxiety crawling under his skin. After a moment, he laid down next to Evan’s warm body. 

Tentatively, he reached out. He wasn’t sure what for yet. Maybe to brush the hair out of his eyes. Maybe to wrap his arms around him. Maybe to try and kiss him, hoping Evan would do the same.

But before Steve could even touch him, Evan’s eyes hot open and he slapped Steve’s hand away.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” He hissed.

Steve withdrew, tucking his arms against his chest. 

“But…” He started. “I—”

“I ain’t no fairy.” Evan looked at Steve like he was something disgusting. Like he had something ugly and contagious deep inside him. “Now how about you get the fuck out of here before you wake everyone up and I’d have to tell em what you tried to do.”

The freezing cold air stung Steve’s wide eyes. “I didn’t—”

“Get the fuck away from me Steve!” Evan said it a little louder. A warning that he’d make good on his word if Steve didn’t start moving.

Loose pebbles scraped and dug into Steve’s hands as he scrambled to his feet. He stood for a moment, staring down at Evan, trying to think of a way to apologize.

But right when Steve opened his mouth, Evan grabbed a fistful of rocks and threw them at him.

Steve felt them bounce off his clothes and scratch his skin. Tears pricked at the corner of his eye again, and the last thought Steve had before he turned and ran was that he didn’t want Evan to see him cry.

The frigid air felt like knives piercing his lungs with each inhale. But Steve didn’t stop running until he was far from the quarry and on the main road back into town.

Steve didn’t know for how long he’d been walking, but he knew it was probably too long considering his body was beginning to go numb.

He kept replaying what had happened over and over in his head, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. Had it been because he’d tried to kiss Evan? Was that something boys weren’t supposed to do? 

He knew boys publicly liking other boys wasn’t okay. He knew all of Hawkins would probably be disgusted with him. But Evan hadn’t been disgusted at first. He gladly accepted the blowjob. So why had he gotten mad about the other things?

Maybe boys who liked boys weren’t supposed to like soft things like kissing. Maybe Steve liked that kind of stuff because he also liked girls.

Steve was so deep in thought he almost missed how his surroundings were suddenly illuminated by police lights. He glanced behind him at the approaching vehicle, and his stomach twisted when he realized it was the sheriff’s car.

No.

Not now.

Not him.

Steve turned and kept walking. He could hear the car roll up alongside him.

“Hey, kid!” A familiar gruff voice called.

Steve kept walking.

“You shouldn’t be out so late.”

He pulled his arms tighter around his chest and continued to stare resolutely ahead. He could hear Hopper groan in frustration.

“You’re gonna freeze out there.”

Steve stopped. Because that was true. He already couldn’t feel his toes, and he was pretty sure his fingers were quickly going numb too.

“Come on, let me drive you home.”

For a moment, Steve considered spitting on his car. But then self-preservation took over, bundling Steve’s stubbornness in a nice thick insulation for later use.

Without saying anything, he turned towards the car and opened the door to the backseat.

“You don't have to sit back—” Steve slammed the door on Hopper’s last few words and recited his address before turning to stare out the car window.

They drove in silence for a long while.

“So what were you doing out there?” Hopper finally asked, glancing in the rear-view mirror.

Steve shrugged. He wasn’t in the mood to talk. Especially with someone who obviously doesn’t give a shit about him.

“Well from the smell of it, it sounds like you had a good time.”

Shit. Steve glanced towards the front, briefly meeting the reflection of Hopper’s gaze. Did he smell the pot on him? Was this just some trick to drag him back to jail?

Hopper sighed and focused on the road again. 

“Look kid, I know I probably seem like a hardass to you—” Steve snorted. “—But believe it or not I was your age once. I made stupid decisions and back then I thought the sheriff was a real buzzkill too.”

He must have seen Steve roll his eyes, because he went into the next part with a slightly sterner tone.

“So I’m not going to drag you down to the station. And I’m not going to tell your parents.”

Steve stared at the back of Hopper’s head as the car pulled to a stop in front of his family’s house.

“You didn’t try to drive while high. Yes, you almost froze to death because of it, but at least you didn’t put anyone else’s life at risk. I’m not going to punish you for that.” 

Hopper turned in his seat to look at Steve, hand still clutching the wheel. "Just promise you’re not going to do it again."

_Promise._

Wasn't that a funny word. Almost like a little joke they shared between the two of them.

Because Steve knew for a fact that Hopper's promises weren't worth shit.

But here he was looking at Steve with that serious sheriff stare, asking him to make a promise.

Steve smiled. "Yeah. I promise."

Hopper nodded, then hesitated for a moment before turning back to the front. "Alright. See you next time."

"Mmhmm." Steve responded, sliding out of the car and almost gasping as the cold air hit skin.

He didn’t look back to see if Hopper was watching. But he noted that he didn’t hear the car drive away until he had the front door unlocked.

Probably wanted to make sure Steve wasn’t going to be any more trouble tonight.

Steve slammed the door behind him. His mom and dad were on a trip, so there was no one else at home to disturb. 

The house’s suffocating silence pressed down on Steve, making him feel small. His first instinct was to call Tommy, but he and Carol were at his grandma’s by now. So instead he walked over to the stereo, found a loud channel and cranked the volume up. He wasn’t listening to the words. He just needed sound.

But sound wasn’t enough. Steve looked down at his hands. There was nothing there, but he swore he could still feel the dirt and pebbles digging into his skin. He needed to get clean.

With the stereo still blaring, he climbed the stairs until he reached the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind him.

Steve cranked the shower to its hottest temperature and stood under the spray. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair, feeling his scalp sting from where Evan had grabbed at it.

The steam began to loosen up Steve’s throat, reminding him of why it hurt in the first place.

Steve reached a hand up and massaged his neck. He had imagined what it would be like to kiss Evan. To feel the other boy touch and caress him. To explore each other and figure out what made the other feel good.

But the reality was nothing like he'd imagined. Or wanted.

 _But I did want it, right?_ Steve thought to himself.

It's not like Evan had pressured him into anything he hadn't thought about doing already. He was just a little rougher that Steve had expected. But he would have stopped if Steve told him to, right?

Steve touched his hair again, remembering the feeling of Evan holding him in place. It hadn't felt like he could have just walked away. 

But Steve didn't walk away. He didn't try to fight back. He could have pushed Evan away at any moment, and he didn't. He chose to take it. He _chose_ to be hurt.

Steve had to believe that.

He had to believe that, despite the pain and tears, he was still in control. He wasn't a victim.

He wasn't that same sad, helpless child that didn't have a say in how he was touched.

Steve didn't know how long he'd stayed under the shower.

Long enough for the water to go cold and for his skin to be pink and tender by the time he eventually stepped out of the shower.

Steve could feel his brain beginning to shut off. He didn’t remember leaving the bathroom or walking to his room. The next thing he remembered was collapsing into bed, not bothering to change into his sleepwear.

His skin shuddered against the chilled night air, but Steve didn't bother pulling the blankets over himself. Somehow it didn't feel like he deserved that kind of comfort right now.

That night, Steve didn’t dream. He didn’t fight sleep as it crept over his mind and pulled him into that blissful unconsciousness, where nothing could hurt him, and he didn’t feel like anything.

Those were the best nights for Steve. 

Because you didn’t have to think about the loneliness, or how badly your heart ached when you were nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter. It always brightens my day when you share your thoughts about the story so far! <3  
> If all goes according to plan, and this story and my writing actually cooperate, you'll be seeing another familiar face in the next update.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you want to see more of this story.


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